Les Dragons Blancs
by la-rubinita
Summary: After frighteningly vivid dreams lead Ginny to France, she finds herself thrust into the middle of a war no one knows about, led by a man no one would have ever suspected. Can she save him from an unimaginable fate? Will they make it out of France alive?
1. Oh, For Cryin' Out Loud!

**A/N:****I'm not JKR. Poor me. Many, many thanks to Lyr942 for the beta work!**

**Oh, For Cryin' Out Loud**

Friday, October 24

_The room was dimly lit, but the fire was warm and inviting. On both sides of the hearth, as well as every available inch of wall space, were rows upon rows of books. There were two comfortable wing back chairs placed in front of the fire, but he wasn't sitting in either of them. Instead he was pacing back and forth, his shadows dancing on the wall opposite. _

_When Ginny walked in he stopped his nervous movements, his posture slackening with relief. He strode over to her, and took both of her hands in his. If only she could make out his face…_

"_Did he give you any trouble?" he asked gravely. _

"_Actually, he just kind of disappeared after the meeting ended," Ginny heard herself responding. "I spoke with my parents and Ron and Hermione, but he must have ducked out. Not that I'm complaining; I don't think I'm quite ready for that confrontation just yet." _

_He dropped her hands, and laid one of his own on her shoulder. Gently, he cupped her chin with the other, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. _

_If only she could see his face…_

"_Do you have any idea how proud I am of you?" he asked. She could hear the smile in his voice. "I never would have been able to convince them." _

"_I did come off rather professionally, didn't I," she said, returning his smile. _

"_And she's modest too," he said, leaning his face closer to her own. _

_Ginny closed her eyes as their lips met. It was soft and oh so sweet; she thought her heart would break. She let his scent wash over her. It was clean, like summer rain or the first snow fall, and she loved it. _

_She felt his hand slide from her shoulder and wrap itself around her waist, pulling her close while the other entwined its fingers in her hair. Her own hand rose to his neck as she opened her mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss. _

_Then the door opened, but neither of them noticed. _

"_How could you, Ginny?" a shaky voice questioned from the doorway. _

_They hastily broke off the kiss, but his hand remained possessively on her waist. Ginny felt her face redden when her brown eyes found the intruder's emerald green ones. They were shining with emotion - anger, betrayal, confusion, sadness. _

"_Harry," she whispered. "I-"_

"_How could you?" _

Ginny Weasley bolted upright in her dormitory bed, her breathing ragged and her heart racing. Her hand flew to her lips, which were tingling. The after effects of yet another incredibly life like dream.

"_How could you, Ginny?"_ Harry's voice echoed in her head.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud," she muttered under her breath. Every night since term began Ginny had dreamt of the faceless man. Every night since term began, she had awoken immediately afterwards and been unable to fall back to sleep. Quite frankly, she was getting sick of it.

But tonight was different. Tonight, there was Harry. Until just a moment ago, Ginny had hoped the faceless man who haunted her dreams was Harry. It didn't make complete sense, but she felt drawn to him, which made him the logical candidate. They were no longer together, and hadn't been for almost eighteen months, but there was no doubt in her mind that they would at least give it another go when he returned.

_If he returns…_

And the dreams were so _real_. One night, Ginny had dreamed that the two of them were having a terrible row, only to wake up angry enough to shatter the mirror on the back of the bathroom door when she slammed it closed. That was why this new dream bothered her so much. If she wasn't kissing Harry, who the bloody hell was it?

Knowing she would not fall back asleep, Ginny slid out of bed and began dressing. As silently as she could, she threw on a pair of jeans, the red jumper her mum made last Christmas, a hat and gloves and finally her heavy winter cloak. Grabbing her Cleansweep, she tiptoed down the stairs into the Gryffindor common room and out the portrait hole.

Careful not to wake any of the portraits that lined the corridors, Ginny made her way to the top of the Astronomy Tower. The air was bitterly cold at that altitude, but Ginny welcomed it. It would help clear her head. Judging by the light, she had a good two hours before sun-up and another hour after that until breakfast.

Without hesitating, Ginny stood on the ledge, broom grasped tightly in one hand, and jumped. She loved to free fall before putting her broom underneath her at the last moment. It was exhilarating. The way her stomach turned when her feet failed to hit solid ground was addictive.

Just three short meters before she hit the frozen earth, Ginny shoved her broomstick in place and jerked up hard on the handle, pulling up out of the nose dive. Automatically, she shot off around the castle, headed for the Black Lake. She loved flying over the lake more than any other part of Hogwarts' grounds. It was beautiful, in any light, and sometimes early in the morning she could watch the giant squid catching fish or just swimming about leisurely as she flew overhead.

As much as she enjoyed flying in the early morning hours, it had sadly become an almost nightly ritual. It seemed like no matter how tired she was, her mind would never allow her to return to sleep. Not that she really wanted to sleep anymore. She was tired of dreaming all the time, especially since the dreams apparently had no purpose other than to occupy her thoughts for the entire day.

As she flew across the Black Lake, she let her thoughts drift to Harry for the first time in weeks. When he first left with Ron and Hermione, Ginny had thought that she was going to die of loneliness. They hadn't even stayed for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Her mother had been heartbroken, but not as badly as Ginny. She understood the reasoning behind Harry's decision, but she had loved him since she was ten years old, and it didn't make it easier to accept. Neither did it help that they left without so much as a goodbye, or even a letter for that matter. Harry had come to the Burrow to celebrate his birthday and they were gone by the next morning.

That was the summer before Ginny's sixth year. She had gone back to Hogwarts only under threats of death and torture by her mother. Even looking back on that time now, a full year later, still brought back painful emotions for her. She had thrown herself into her schoolwork and into Quidditch, anything that would keep her mind of off Harry. For some reason, Professor McGonagall had made her Captain. The first girl to be Gryffindor captain in fifty years; her mum was almost as proud of her as she was when Ron was made Prefect. Needless to say, it was a most welcome distraction.

It was Christmas before anyone in the wizarding world heard from the Golden Trio. When Christmas morning arrived, there were presents for each of them as well as a letter sitting on the kitchen table at the Burrow. Ginny had managed to keep her composure throughout the whole day. Her mum, however, was so distraught that she didn't even yell at Fred and George when they almost set the tree on fire testing their new indoor fireworks.

That was the last anyone heard from them, and they were all beginning to get worried. No one knew what they were up to, only that it was important enough for Hermione Granger not to return to Hogwarts to claim her role as Head Girl. Despite the lack of contact, however, the war was not waiting for them to return. Since Dumbledore died and the Chosen One disappeared, the Death Eaters had become increasingly bolder, striking not just at innocent Muggles and wizarding families; they had directly assaulted the Order six times. And those were just the incidents that Ginny knew of. There were also rumors floating about that Voldemort was recruiting Death Eaters from abroad. The good guys were slowly losing the war.

By the time her seventh year rolled around, Ginny had pretty much come to terms with the fact that it would be a long time before she and Harry got their chance. She knew that she would always have a soft spot for him, but she couldn't keep hoping. It was just too painful. She stepped onto the Hogwarts Express to begin her final year of schooling with a totally different mindset. She was determined to enjoy her year as much as possible, and when it was over, she would do her part to end this war – Harry or no Harry.

Thinking about her latest dream only reinforced that idea. Not only was the man in her dreams not Harry, but she was kissing him. Waking up with the feel of another man's lips on your own isn't exactly comforting.

Ginny hadn't realized how long she'd been out flying until she banked eastward only to get a face full of sunrise. It was stunningly beautiful, but she wanted to get back to the dorm before her roommates noticed she was missing.

Taking one more lap around the castle, she landed gracefully on the Astronomy Tower. She turned for one last look at the glorious sunrise. It always made her feel liberated, even more so than flying. Her only regret was that it only lasted for a few minutes before she had to return to the world and begin her day. Sighing, she began taking the steps down two at a time, eagerly anticipating a hot shower.

Thankfully, Ginny arrived back at her dormitory before any of her friends had even woken up. She took off her outerwear and stashed her broom in her trunk before making her way to the bathroom. She undressed while the water warmed, leaving her clothes in an untidy heap behind the door.

While she brushed her teeth, she studied her face. She was amazed at how little she'd changed. Other than looking a bit older and as tired as she felt, as well as growing a few inches, Ginny appeared the exact same as she had three years ago. She had the same vibrant red hair, the same peaches and cream complexion with a spattering of freckles, the same brown eyes. She was still the same old Ginerva Weasley - on the outside at least. Inside she felt like an entirely different witch. She felt jaded.

"That's what having your heart broken does to you," she said to her reflection around her toothbrush. She spit out the minty foam and rinsed her mouth, then climbed into the steaming hot shower.

For several minutes, she simply stood in the shower allowing the scalding water to cleanse her body and mind of the night's memories. _Who is he? Why do I dream about him? Why can't I see his face?_ The questions were endless, and none of her dreams seemed to answer any of them. They usually ended up adding new questions to the queue.

_It's going to be a long day…_

A pounding on the bathroom door snapped Ginny out of her reverie. She had no idea how long she'd been standing in the hot water, lost in thought. Hastily, she washed and jumped out. The room was full of steam, making the air feel heavy in her lungs. It was cathartic somehow. Wrapping a towel around her naked body and grabbing her dirty clothes she stepped out into the freezing bedroom.

Ginny shared the room with five other seventh years, and they were all awake and in different stages of preparedness. Jamie Porter usually showered at night and was already dressed, ready to go downstairs to breakfast.

Mallory King and her best friend Kimmy Wilson were gathering their books in their pajamas. It was most likely one of them that had disrupted Ginny's shower. Amelia Apple and Fiona Shepherd were just stirring. They were probably roused by the pounding on the lavatory door.

"Sorry, guys. I didn't realize how long I'd been in there," Ginny apologized. "I hope I didn't make you late."

Mallory glanced at her watch as she entered the lavatory. "No harm done. I just hope you left some hot water for the rest of us. You look like a lobster, Ginny."

Amelia chuckled, "You do look like a lobster."

Fiona and Kimmy joined in, and Ginny stuck out her tongue playfully. She was going to try her hardest not to let a bad night ruin her day.

Ginny hurriedly threw on her white uniform shirt, tie, jumper and plaid skirt, but couldn't find her robes. "Does anyone know what time it is?" she asked from the inside of her trunk as she dug around for them. Her voice sounded hollow and muffled at the same time.

"It's…7:15," Kimmy replied. "What's the rush? You still have forty-five minutes until classes begin."

"Ah! There they are," Ginny exclaimed when she spotted the sleeve sticking out from underneath her bed. "You know I meet Luna in the library before class," she responded before tugging her robes over her head.

"I swear, Ginny," Kimmy began, "if I knew any better, I'd say that the Sorting Hat should have put you in Ravenclaw."

"Hardly," Ginny said. "I will _always_ put Quidditch before my studies." Grabbing her bag and heading for the stairs she threw over her shoulder, "And don't forget about practice tonight, Fiona. 6:30. Sharp."

"Yeah, yeah, don't get your knickers in a twist," she said to Ginny's retreating form.

Fiona was the starting Keeper for Gryffindor's House Team. She wasn't very big, but she had sharp eyes and reflexes quick enough to match almost any Seeker out there. In fact, Ginny had wanted to make her Seeker, but Fiona had been adamant. It was Keeper or nothing at all. She was also notoriously late.

Skipping breakfast, Ginny ran straight to the library. She desperately wanted to tell Luna about her latest dream. Since Harry, Ron, and Hermione left, and most of their other friends graduated a year later, Ginny and Luna had become quite close. She was a bit odd, but she was a loyal friend and a great listener. Luna always provided new perspective to any situation.

It still wasn't 7:30 by the time Ginny reached the library, so other than Madame Pince and Luna, the room was deserted. Ginny had never understood what it was that Hermione fancied so much about the library until she started meeting Luna there in the mornings. The smell of the ancient books, the way the early sun filtered in through the full length windows and the almost complete silence made the time Ginny spent there the only peaceful time she got all day - apart from her night time flying sessions, of course.

Oftentimes, it was the only chance she got to see Luna as well. They didn't have any classes together, and their responsibilities to their respective houses left little time for socializing.

"Good morning, Ginny," Luna greeted cheerfully as she approached their usual table. "What did you dream about last night? Was it something new?" Her glassy blue eyes only left the essay she was scribbling out when Ginny plopped down into the chair across from her. "Why didn't you get breakfast?"

"Some day," Ginny began, ignoring the question, "you're going to have to tell me how you do that." Luna, despite all of her oddities, was uncannily perceptive.

"Do what?" she asked, perplexed.

"You always know what I've been up to before I get a chance to tell you, that's what."

The blonde just shrugged. Ginny reckoned even she didn't know how she did it; just another quirk of Luna Lovegood.

Ginny then proceeded to recount the disturbing dream in perfect detail.

"…and just when we really got going, the door opened and Harry walked in." The last sentence of her tale came out in a rush like she was hoping Luna wouldn't hear.

No such luck. Luna's head popped up from her essay making the enchanted jack-o-lantern earrings she wore cackle spookily.

"Harry?" she questioned in disbelief.

Ginny hid her blushing face in her hands. She didn't know why she felt so ashamed. It was just a dream, right?

"Yes, Harry," she mumbled into her palms.

"I thought you'd been dreaming about Harry this whole time?" Luna was now giving Ginny her undivided attention. She was even making eye contact.

"I know, I know," Ginny said, frustrated. "I'd hoped it was Harry. You should have seen his face, Luna." She dropped her hands into her lap and began tracing the plaid pattern with her fingers. "He looked so crushed. I can't ever imagine doing that to Harry. _Ever_."

Luna pursed her lips, trying to think of the best response. Finally she said, "I think you should go see Professor Trelawney."

Ginny snorted, "Yeah, or why don't you just chuck me into St. Mungo's right now? If I'm not mad already, asking that bat for help would definitely cross the line between sane and cracked. She'd be lucky to tell me what day it is."

"Ginny," Luna said in the same dreamy voice, "she may not be able to tell you what they mean, but what if they're visions?"

"If that was supposed to be comforting, or convince me to go, you failed, my friend." In fact, the idea that her dreams might be visions left Ginny feeling even more unsettled. "If it's not Harry, I'm not sure I want to know who it is."

She shook her head, her red hair catching the sunlight. "No, I'd rather they stopped, so I can forget about this whole thing."

"But if they're visions, they won't stop until you do something," Luna reasoned.

"They're not visions!" Ginny snapped. She felt a bit guilty about losing her temper with her helpful friend, but Luna had a knack for hitting the nail on the head. The thought of her dreams being something more substantial was down-right frightening.

"They're not visions," she repeated softly. "Why would _I_ be having visions? I think the only person less likely to have them than me would be Hermione. I dropped Divination for a reason." Ginny couldn't keep the pleading tone from her voice. She didn't want them to be visions, because if they were, then that meant that she would break Harry's heart. She was hoping that Luna would start laughing and tell her it was a joke; that she just wanted to get a rise out of her. Instead, Luna began packing up her things and prepared to leave.

"Just think about it, Ginny. Who knows, maybe they're important."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Ginny mumbled under her breath. She was trying not to glare as she watched her best friend fasten her cloak around her shoulders.

"Professor Grubblyplank asked me to help set up class this morning," Luna said as she slung her satchel over one shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow after the match. Good luck."

Despite her foul mood, Ginny couldn't help but smile as she watched her strange friend skip out of the library. She accepted long ago that one reason they were such good friends was because Luna was impervious to Ginny's sarcasm and temper. Granted, she wasn't as volatile as Ron, she still had some bite to her bark.

With Luna gone, Ginny decided to head to class as well. Double Potions with Slytherins was not her idea of a good time, but the sooner it was over, the better. It also put her one step closer to Quidditch practice, her light at the end of the tunnel.

The day progressed exactly as Ginny had anticipated: agonizingly slow. It didn't help that she had so much to think about that she was sure her head would explode, either. Between her dreams, the conversation with Luna that morning, Quidditch practice, or the upcoming match against Ravenclaw, it was safe to say that Ginny had little room in her head for classes that Friday.

Anxious to get to the pitch (and not wanting to deal with the roar of the Great Hall at meal time), Ginny skipped dinner and went straight to the locker rooms. It was only quarter to six, but she couldn't imagine being anywhere but on her broom at the moment. Her earlier prediction had been accurate: It had been a long day, and flying was the only way she had to unwind. She also needed to turn on the lights on the pitch. It was late in the year, and the sun had set almost an hour ago.

After quickly changing into her gear and strapping her broom across her back, Ginny went to the supply closet. Inside she found the Quidditch set as well as the small wooden box that held the stadium lights. Leaving the chest containing the Quaffle, Bludgers and the Snitch at the locker room door, Ginny opened the case containing the lights. Inside were twelve shining white orbs about the size of marbles. She set the box on the ground and watched as the orbs began floating, increasing in size all the while. Before long, each one zoomed off towards its own place around the stadium. In less than a minute, the entire pitch was illuminated.

Satisfied, Ginny un-slung her broom and went to retrieve the Snitch from its casement. She was a Chaser, but she also had thirty minutes to kill before the rest of the team arrived. Releasing the tiny golden ball, she jumped on her broom and took off across the pitch in pursuit.

The other Chasers arrived first; Edmund Tomlinson and Geoffrey Blanks. Edmund was a seventh year like Ginny, but Geoffrey was only a fourth year. A few minutes later, Robby Dalton, the Seeker, arrived with Vance Cutler and Stephen Cobb, all three of which were fifth years. Lastly, with five minutes to spare, Fiona flew in on her broom.

"See, Ginny, I wasn't late today," she said enthusiastically once she emerged from the locker room fully dressed.

Ginny smiled. "Alright, guys," she addressed the team. "We have our first match against Ravenclaw tomorrow, so we're going to spend tonight working on strategy. They've got two new Beaters, Victoria and Jonathan Coffee. They're young, but I've been watching them practice and they're going to be a force to be reckoned with if we underestimate them. What I want to do tonight is…"

For an hour and a half, the team practiced its heart out. Ginny was unsure if Robby would be able to perform to the best of his ability under the pressure, but the rest of the players couldn't be more prepared for the match. After she put the equipment back in the closet and changed back into her clothes, Ginny met Fiona outside. Wands lighting the way, the girls walked back to the castle.

Fiona was chatting amiably, but Ginny's mind was elsewhere. While she had been focused on Quidditch, she had been able to push the thoughts of her dreams to the back of her mind, but now they were coming back full force. Ginny found the memory of the first dream she had creeping into her head.

_It was dark underneath the burlap hood, but Ginny could tell there was a light on somewhere. The magical ropes that bound her wrists behind her back were cutting painfully into her skin. She was walking forward and there was someone next to her that kept bumping into her, knocking her off balance. _

"_Sorry," whispered Fiona next to her. "I can't see where I'm going." _

"_Me neither," Ginny whispered back. _

_Abruptly, there was a rough hand on her shoulder, bringing her to a halt. Ginny couldn't help but wince as the man's fingers dug into her flesh. The same man that was holding her in place reached between her and Fiona to knock on the door they had apparently stopped in front of. _

"_Entrez," came the muffled response from the other side. _

_Ginny heard the knob turn and the latch release, but the door swung open soundlessly. There was a sharp jab between her shoulder blades urging her forward once more. Beside her, Fiona stumbled, but didn't fall. _

_After just a few steps they were stopped once again. The burlap sack was jerked off of her head, the sudden presence of light causing her to blink rapidly. Beside her, Fiona was doing the same. _

_The first thing Ginny noticed once her vision cleared was a man sitting behind the desk she and Fiona were standing in front of. He had his back turned to them. Ginny felt herself holding her breath with anticipation waiting for the man to turn around and reveal his identity. The sense of deja-vu was overwhelming. _

_After a short moment that seemed like an eternity, he did face them, but Ginny was sorely disappointed. There was not one thing she could distinguish about the anonymous man's features. She released the breath she'd been keeping in. Fiona gasped. _

"_You," Ginny snarled, anger mixing with disbelief. Though she didn't recognize him, her dream self appeared to know him well. _

"_Weasley," the man said. The shock was evident in his voice. "Who's your friend?" _

"_Shepherd," Fiona spit out, not bothering to mask her hostility. _

"_I was expecting Parkinson and Greengrass or maybe Bulstrode. Are you sure these were the girls?" he asked, pointing at them and addressing the woman behind Fiona. _

"_Oui," she said nodding her head. "They've been snooping around for almost a week now." Her English was good, but heavily accented. _

"_This can't be right," Ginny said under her breath. However, the sinking feeling in her gut told her it was. _

_Ginny observed the woman from the corner of her eye. She was very tall, almost six feet and had straight black hair that reached her waist. Her skin was almost white, and Ginny wasn't sure, but she thought the woman's eyes were amethyst. She looked vaguely familiar. _

"_What are you two doing here?" he asked seriously. _

"_I don't see how that's any of your bloody business," Ginny ground out. "And I'll kindly thank you to unbind us." She wriggled her arms to emphasize the point. _

"_Temper, temper, Weasley. You kiss your mother with that mouth?" _

_Ginny remained silent, biting back a hundred snide remarks that leapt to the tip of her tongue. She wished she could see his expression. He gave a slight nod to the man behind her and an instant later her bonds had disappeared. _

"_Fancy meeting you here," Fiona interjected. "And here we were thinking you were dead when really you've just been lurking about, waiting to kidnap unsuspecting travelers. And I want my bloody broom back." _

_The man shook his head and chuckled softly. "She's a feisty one, isn't she?" he addressed Ginny. _

"_Don't talk about Fiona like she's not in the same room, you git." _

"_Well, Ginny," Fiona said, stepping in to end the argument she saw brewing. Ginny was exceedingly grateful Fiona was there with her. "Do you recognize any of this, or should we be on our way. We've wasted enough of our time on him as it is." _

_Ginny glanced around the room, taking in every detail. She gave a little gasp when she spotted a glass paperweight on the man's desk. Inside was a white dragon. It was enchanted, so every minute or so it would spit out a green fireball and then chase it around before curling up once more. _

_Ginny felt a knot the size of a Quaffle form inside her stomach. That was the worst part, the room did seem familiar – especially the paperweight. She didn't know why it stuck out in her mind, but it did. Even the conversation sent up little red flags in her head. She imagined the stranger behind the desk was quirking an eyebrow at Fiona's question, but she couldn't make out his face…_

"So I told him exactly where he could shove that size three iron cauldron." Beside her Fiona was chuckling at her own story. It took her a moment to realize that Ginny hadn't been paying any attention at all.

"Hey there, girlie, where were you just then?" she asked, playfully rapping Ginny's forehead with her knuckles.

"France," she blurted out of nowhere.

_France?_

"What?" Fiona had stopped walking. The confused look on her face would have been hysterical if Ginny wasn't feeling equal if not greater measures of the same emotion.

_Where did that come from?_

"I think you've been hanging out with Loony _way_ too much," her housemate said.

"Don't call her that, Fiona," Ginny replied tiredly.

"Sorry," she said as they began walking again.

Ginny smiled in response. Everyone thought Luna was cracked; she stopped taking offense ages ago.

"So, who did you tell to do what with a size three iron cauldron?"


	2. Temper, Temper

**Temper, Temper**

Saturday, October 25

"_What the bloody hell is in your head, Weasley?" he shouted at her._

_They were standing in the middle of a clearing. Behind him there was a small two-storey log cabin; they were surrounded by thick evergreens and curious faces._

"_What's in my head?! What's in __**your**__ head?" Ginny demanded, jabbing his chest with two fingers. "Rushing in blind, without backup? How could you be so careless?!"_

"_I can take care of myself, Weasley," he ground out as he turned and began walking furiously towards the cabin. "I had everything under control. And I had backup, Thomas was there."_

_Ginny rushed to catch up to him. He wasn't that much taller than her, but his stride was longer, and he had a head start. She was so not done with him._

"_I would hardly consider two versus ten and a troll 'under control.' And if Adrienne and I hadn't showed up, Thomas would be dead right now! So would you for that matter!"_

"_Ginny! What happened? Where did you go?" Fiona stepped out of the cabin, her face as anxious as Ginny had ever seen it. She rushed towards the two of them and threw her arms around Ginny's neck. "Maurice said that you freaked out and left with Adrienne."_

"_Mr. Brilliant here has a death wish, that's what happened," Ginny answered as Fiona broke the embrace. _

"_I can take care of myself," he repeated through clenched teeth. "I didn't need you to rescue me."_

"_Fine!" Ginny shouted. "The next time I envision your untimely demise, I'll roll over and go back to sleep!" She immediately regretted her words, but there was no taking them back now._

"_What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Her statement had stopped him dead in his tracks. He turned back to her, anticipating her answer._

"_It's not important," she dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. She desperately wished he would drop it._

"_You've got some explaining to do, Weasley."_

"_I'm not the only one," Ginny mumbled as the three of them began walking towards the cabin once more._

* * *

"Hey there, girlie, don't you ever sleep? It's not even eight o'clock," a sleepy-eyed Fiona asked softly as Ginny stepped out of the bathroom. After her dream, she had repeated her actions of the day before: She flew until sun-up, and then took a mercilessly hot shower.

"You're awake too," Ginny replied as she slipped her knickers on underneath her towel. She turned her back and put on her bra.

"I have a game day ritual to complete," Fiona explained as she swung her legs over the edge of her bed. She was so short; her feet dangled several inches above the floor. "What's your excuse?"

"I, erm, have a Transfiguration assignment I want to finish before the match this afternoon," Ginny lied. Luna was the only person on the planet who knew about her dreams and she wanted to keep it that way.

Fiona rubbed the sleep out of her eyes before attempting to run her fingers through her extremely curly chestnut locks. It wasn't working out very well.

"Just use your hairbrush," Ginny chuckled as she pulled her jeans back on. "You'll lose a finger like that."

"Ha, ha," Fiona mocked. Ginny noticed out of the corner of her eye that her friend dove across her bed for her brush anyways. "Hey, what time do we have to be on the pitch, again?"

"11:30," Ginny lied, again. The team was really supposed to meet at noon, but she wanted Fiona to be early, and not arrive five minutes before game time.

Ginny sat down on her bed as she pulled a light pink v-neck sweater over her head. After brushing her hair and then drying it with a spell, she scooted onto the floor to search for her brown boots. Her stomach gurgled angrily, making Fiona giggle.

"When was the last time you ate, Ginny? I didn't see you at dinner yesterday."

"Um," she began as she stretched out underneath Mallory's bed. One of her shoes was hiding at the back. "I had half a sandwich for lunch," she finished as she extracted her upper body from beneath the bed.

Turning the boot upside down, she started banging the sole with her hand, hoping to dislodge any spiders that might have taken up residence. A quick search found her other boot wedged between Jamie's trunk and the wall.

"How come it's always my things that end up scattered?" she complained as she stuffed her socked feet into her boots.

"If you're not careful," Fiona said seriously, "you're going to end up in the hospital wing."

"Why's that?" Ginny asked, genuinely perplexed.

"Ginny, you never eat anymore and I know you have nightmares."

Ginny felt her cheeks flush, but tried to sound nonchalant. "What do you mean?" She really didn't like where this conversation was going.

"At least three nights a week, I hear you get up and leave in the middle of the night," the brunette said matter of factly. "I don't know what's going on, but you've got to take better care of your self."

Ginny couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was always so careful not to wake anyone. Did the others know?

"I haven't told anyone," she said, answering Ginny's unspoken question, "but—"

"But what Fiona?" Ginny questioned hotly.

"Don't get defensive," Fiona said, getting up off of her bed and walking towards Ginny. "I'm just worried about you." Her teammate drew Ginny into a gentle hug, and she felt herself relax.

"I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind."

"I know, but promise me you'll try," Fiona implored as she broke the embrace.

"I will," Ginny promised with a small smile. "Remember – 11:30."

Fiona only laughed as Ginny turned and left.

* * *

She headed straight to the Great Hall for breakfast. Fiona was right - Ginny hadn't been eating properly for some time now. But she had a match today and needed all of the strength and stamina she could get. Quidditch matches could take hours, and if Ravenclaw was as good as Ginny thought they were, it could very well take most of the afternoon to end the match.

Heaping enough eggs, bacon and toast onto her plate for three people, Ginny tucked in. She tried to keep her mind on the match, but thoughts of her latest dream kept weaseling their way in. While flying that morning, it dawned on her how naive she'd been to assume it was Harry whom she was dreaming about. The man acted nothing like Harry, even though he obviously commanded the respect of the other people in her dreams. And he almost always called her 'Weasley,' especially when they argued. Ginny couldn't think of one single instance when Harry had addressed her by her surname.

Not that the stranger never called her by her given name. There had been several dreams when he called her 'Ginny.' She realized that it was the emotions the dreams evoked which brought her to that conclusion. She felt things for the man that she had always associated with Harry: trust, comfort, affection, a desire to protect, and attraction.

There was no doubt in her mind that it was definitely _not_ Harry. Which begged the question: Who was he? She also recalled what she had blurted out to Fiona the night before. _France._ It came out of nowhere, but she was convinced it was true. She felt it in her gut. Why would Harry be in France? Better question- why would she be in France?

_Looking for someone…_

Ginny finished her breakfast in record time; Ron would have been proud. She wanted as much time as possible in the library to research dreams and visions. She wasn't desperate enough to seek out Professor Trelawney, but Luna had a point. It never hurt to be informed.

It was instances like this that Ginny lamented Hermione's absence. She had been researching for over two hours and had found plenty of information on both topics, but was unsure how to apply it to her situation. According to the books, her circumstance was truly unique.

Dreams, if they were recurring, usually repeated the same dream over and over. It was also uncommon for dreams to occur with such frequency. On the other hand, visions seemed to be an extremely rare event. It would be highly unusual for them to come every night for seven weeks. Like dreams, even if a vision were to plague a person on more than one occasion, it would likely be a repeat of the original.

None of the texts accounted for the lucidity of the dreams or the emotional and physical bond Ginny sensed. They felt more like an out of body experience, in truth. That however, was quite impossible. Not only did astral projection take many years of practice, but it took a conscious effort. It would also mean that Fiona was astrally projecting as well, which was ridiculous.

Annoyed, frustrated, and more concerned than before, Ginny left for the locker rooms to prepare for the match. She arrived at the pitch at exactly 11:30. Ten minutes later, a windswept Fiona barged into the locker room apologizing profusely.

"Merlin, Ginny, I'm so sorry," she flustered as she dropped her gear on the floor and pulled her jumper over her head. "Amelia and I…hey, where is everybody? I'm ten minutes late."

Ginny chuckled at her confused friend. "No, you're twenty minutes early."

"But-" she stopped mid-sentence when realization dawned on the brunette. "You little shite!" Fiona exclaimed, throwing her discarded jumper at Ginny.

"Hurry up and get dressed," Ginny said as she pulled on her gloves and picked up her broom. "The wind is really blowing now, and we both need as much warm-up time as we can get."

Fiona rolled her eyes, but began suiting up anyways. "You're lucky I like you, girlie," she joked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you would tear me limb from limb if you didn't."

"You'd better believe it."

It was Ginny's turn to roll her eyes. "Get the lead out, _girlie_."

* * *

Ginny was glad she and Fiona had been able to warm up together. Ravenclaw's Beaters, the Coffee twins were all over the place; their transition from offence to defense was seamless. They guarded their Chasers religiously, which meant that Fiona was shot on almost every time Ravenclaw gained possession of the Quaffle. They were merciless on defense as well, forcing many errors, especially on Geoffrey's part. Ginny and Edmund had to make every shot count.

It was by far the longest and hardest fought match Ginny had ever played. Luckily the Ravenclaw Keeper, Michael Troy, wasn't half the Keeper Fiona was. She was most definitely proving her worth. After three hours the score was tied at one hundred and ten.

Ginny hovered for a moment on her broom and surveyed her team. She, Edmund, and Fiona were holding their own, but Geoffrey had been struggling the entire match. Vance and Stephen were playing brilliantly, but after three hours of keeping up with Jonathan and Victoria Coffee's relentless pace, they were running out of steam. The match was in Robby's hands now; the rest of the team couldn't take much more abuse.

Amelia Apple's excited voice blasted over the loudspeaker and into Ginny's thoughts. She was Lee Jordan's cousin and took her commentating responsibilities just as seriously. She was just as funny, too.

"And Dalton's spotted the Snitch! About bloody time! Ouch, sorry Professor. Sarah Hope is hot on his tail!"

The two Seekers raced towards the Snitch; Hope was gaining quickly. Ginny took one more glance around the pitch before she made her move. Geoffrey and Edmund had the Quaffle and were passing their way towards the goals, weaving in and out between the opposing Chasers. The Ravenclaw Beaters had taken off after the Seekers, but Gryffindor's own were lagging.

Decision made, she shot off across the pitch, intent on heading the battling Seekers off. They were side by side now, hands out stretched, trying to capture the elusive Snitch. Robby checked into Hope, causing her to falter and lose speed. He was _so_ close.

Ginny was near now, and she just noticed, out of the corner of her eye, Jonathan Coffee take a swing with his bat and send the Bludger straight for Robby's exposed back. Without hesitation, Ginny held on tight and zoomed right next to Robby, placing herself between him and the Bludger, in the nick of time.

She yanked up hard on her handle, causing her to fishtail. Using the end of her broom, she hit the Bludger, sending it right back where it came from, exactly like she'd seen Ron and Fiona do hundreds of times before. Coffee barely ducked out of the way.

"DALTON'S CAUGHT THE SNITCH! DALTON'S CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS! 260-110!"

Sure enough, Robby was standing on the grassy pitch hundreds of feet below, the Golden Snitch clutched triumphantly in his fist. Geoffrey, Edmund, Vance and Stephen were already swarming the victorious Seeker. Ginny and Fiona landed lightly side by side and began walking towards the growing crowd ahead.

"Don't think I didn't see that sweep, girlie," Fiona said, clapping Ginny on the back. "Nicely done."

"And you," Ginny replied, poking Fiona in the ribs, "are worth your weight in gold. Can you believe I wanted to make you Seeker?"

"No," she said, laughing out-right.

As the two girls entered the cheering mass, Ginny was suddenly enveloped in a crushing hug. She staggered backward, loosing her balance, but Fiona caught her before she fell.

"Thank you, Ginny," Robby whispered, out of breath. "I never would have caught it if you hadn't been there."

"Nonsense," Ginny scolded with a grin, "you were bloody brilliant. Wasn't he!" she shouted to the crowd. Her pronouncement was met by a roar of applause and whistles. "Somebody get this boy on their shoulders before I have to do it myself!"

Ginny smiled broadly as she watched Robby float away on Edmund's shoulders, caught up in the happy moment. All thoughts of dreams, visions and faceless strangers were completely forgotten.

Fiona linked her arm through Ginny's. "Come on, girlie. Let's shower and get to the common room. "I am absolutely _dying_ of hunger."

* * *

After celebrating with their housemates, Ginny found Fiona and the two walked to supper together. Fiona was telling Ginny how Edmund had asked her to go to Hogsmeade with him next Saturday when they arrived at the Great Hall. Ginny reached out to open the door, but Luna beat her to it.

"Hello Ginny. Hello Fiona. Congratulations, it was such an exciting match," Luna greeted them jovially.

"Thanks, Luna," Fiona replied with a genuine smile.

"Erm, Fiona, you go on ahead. I'll be there in a minute," Ginny suggested as she gestured towards the crowded dining area. "Save me a seat."

"Ok, but hurry up. I want to see you eat a whole plate of food _and_ desert before you're allowed to leave."

Luna stepped out of the way, allowing Fiona to enter through the door she'd just exited.

"Why did she say that?" Luna asked bluntly. They walked a short way's down the dimly lit hallway and sat on the short flight of steps that lead into the foyer.

"She thinks I don't eat enough, so she's decided to force me."

"You don't."

Ginny sighed, but Luna spoke up again before she had a chance to say anything.

"Tell me about your dream last night."

Ginny sighed again, this time in fatigue. She hadn't thought about her dreams since the match began.

"Well, we were outside, in a clearing, and there was the same log cabin behind him. We were arguing, yelling at each other; I was so mad at him. He and that guy I mentioned before, Thomas, had gotten themselves into a bit of a bind."

"What kind of bind?" Luna asked. She was staring off into space, but Ginny knew she was listening to every word she was saying.

"Apparently they had picked a fight with ten of 'them,' whoever 'they' are, and a troll. I was mad at him because he didn't bring enough back-up. I told him that if the woman, Adrienne, and I hadn't shown up that him and Thomas would both be dead.

"Then Fiona came out of the cabin and told me how worried she was. She mentioned someone named Maurice, but if he's ever been in one of my dreams before, I didn't know it. He told me that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and that he didn't need me to rescue him. I told him, and I quote, 'Fine! Next time I envision your untimely demise, I'll roll over and go back to sleep!'"

"Wow," was all Luna said.

"I know. I'm even dreaming in my dreams." The irony was not lost on Ginny.

"How did you feel when you woke up?" Luna always knew the right questions to ask. She made Ginny look at each dream in a different light. She hadn't thought about how the dream made her feel, just that it happened.

"I was afraid, for him. My hands were shaking so badly that I almost couldn't get my jeans on."

"And you still don't believe they're visions?"

The two girls sat in silence for a minute. Ginny really didn't want to answer that question. Although her research had been inconclusive, it was becoming harder and harder to deny the possibility that they were in fact visions.

"I did some research yesterday after class," Luna said, breaking the silence. Ginny chuckled. She swore Luna could read her mind.

"I spent the entire morning in the library before the match today."

"Did you find anything to explain what's happening to you?"

"No."

"Me neither. Have you given any more thought to going to Professor Trelawney?"

"No," Ginny snorted, "but I did say something interesting to Fiona after practice last night."

"Hm?"

"I had been spacing out, thinking about one of my dreams. When Fiona finally got my attention, she asked me where I had 'been.' France. That's what I told her," Ginny said as if she couldn't believe she had actually said it. "Then she accused me of spending too much time with you."

"Why did she say that?" Luna asked, perplexed.

Ginny couldn't help but marvel at her strange friend; she was a paradox. She had a habit of knowing impossible, and eerily accurate, tid-bits of information, yet she was often oblivious to things that were glaringly obvious to the rest of the world. Her question proved the latter.

"Sometimes you say strange and random things; she thinks you're rubbing off on me," Ginny explained.

"Oh. How did you know the answer was 'France'?"

It was an odd way to ask the question, but Ginny knew how Luna's mind worked – at least in situations like this. She thought of things as questions and answers, true to her Ravenclaw self. Ginny was a Gryffindor; her world was composed of instincts, guts, and impulsive behavior.

"I just knew."

"I'm hungry," Luna said, rubbing her belly for emphasis. "Let's go eat before all the good food is gone."

The girls entered the Great Hall together, but parted ways when they reached the Ravenclaw table. Ginny crossed the remaining distance to the Gryffindor table and sat in the empty space next to Fiona. The brunette had been eyeing the door waiting for Ginny to return.

"I told you I'd be right in," Ginny said as she reached for the pitcher of pumpkin juice. "Have a little faith."

"When I don't have to force you to eat, then I'll stop watching the door," Fiona said between bites of shepherd's pie.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth, Fiona. I swear, you're worse than Ron," Ginny scolded. She began heaping her own serving of shepherd's pie onto her plate, filling it to her friend's satisfaction. "Is that enough, or should I add another scoop?"

"Don't you get cheeky with me, girlie," she threatened as she shook her fork in Ginny's direction.

"I'm terrified, really."

"We always knew you were a scaredy-cat," Amelia said as she and Kimmy sat down across from Ginny and Fiona.

"I may be a scaredy-cat, but I'm a Weasley, too. We have a habit of rushing headlong into sticky situations before we have a chance to be afraid. Or have you not met my brother, Ron?"

"Point taken," Amelia said with a smile. "Pass me the pie, will you?"

"Speaking of Ron," Kimmy said in a low voice so that only the four of them would hear. "Have you heard from him lately? Mallory said the _Prophet_ ran an article yesterday saying that someone spotted him, Harry and Hermione in Croatia."

"Really, Kimmy, do you believe everything you read?" Ginny asked, trying to keep the mood light. She had had such a wonderful day; it would be a shame to ruin it now. "What on earth would they be doing in Croatia?"

Kimmy glanced furtively at Amelia before whispering even more softly, "Hiding."

Ginny's whole body tensed and she felt an angry blush begin creeping onto her cheeks. Her fork was grasped tightly in her hand, turning her knuckles white. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed to keep her voice, and her temper, even.

"You've got to be joking. We are talking about the same Harry, Ron, and Hermione, aren't we?"

A silent, fearful glance shared between the two girls was admission enough. Rage exploded out of Ginny as she jumped up from her seat, eyes flashing. At her side, Fiona started at the sudden movement.

"They are not hiding!" Ginny declared a little too loudly. She now had the attention of half the Gryffindor table as well as a number of Hufflepuffs.

Amelia and Kimmy shrank away, more than a little afraid that Ginny might stab them with the fork she still had clutched in her hand.

"You yourself said you haven't heard from them," Amelia explained meekly, "and Rita Skeet-"

"Rita Skeeter? RITA SKEETER!" Ginny shouted in disbelief. "Have you lost your minds?"

The two girls sputtered, no longer able to defend themselves.

"I can't believe you actually consider anything that fear-mongering, controversy-whore, attention-seeking bint says to be even _remotely_ factual! She's an insult to journalists everywhere! I've read Muggle tabloids with more accuracy than her articles!"

Fiona was tugging at Ginny's sweater sleeve, begging her to sit down, telling her that the whole hall was watching now, but she didn't care. She didn't think she had ever been so enraged in her entire life. These girls were supposed to be her friends, fellow Gryffindors. Jerking her arm out of Fiona's grasp, she continued her rant.

"You two should be ashamed of yourselves! This is Harry bloody Potter we're talking about! Not to mention Ron and Hermione! When have you ever known any of them to run away from anything!? In fact, if past behavior is any indicator, they're probably jumping into it with both feet!

"What's worse is you put the credibility of _Rita Skeeter_ above Harry's, Ron's, Hermione's, and mine! Do you have any idea how insulting that is? I think-"

"Ginny!" Fiona exclaimed, finally gaining her attention. She halted her tirade and met her friend's pleading hazel eyes. It took her a moment to focus on the brunette's concerned face. When she did, she realized that it was the exact same expression Fiona had worn in her dream last night: brows furrowed, lips pursed slightly and quirked up to the side.

Fiona stood, raising herself up to her full five feet, one inches. She was probably a good six or seven inches shorter than Ginny, but she owned every inch of it. The anger leaked slowly out of Ginny, leaving her feeling deflated and close to tears. Her vision blurred with them when Fiona's expression softened a bit.

"They-, I-, Harry-," Ginny stuttered, having spent all of her coherent thoughts on her diatribe.

"I know," Fiona whispered, as she turned Ginny towards the exit and helped her climb over the bench. "Come on, girlie, let's get you out of here."

Ginny nodded her head in acquiescence, and allowed her self to be lead numbly out of the Great Hall. She could feel the hundreds of anticipatory eyes follow her all the way to the door. If it weren't for the protective hand Fiona had placed on her back, Ginny was sure she would have broken down into an inconsolable, sobbing mess right then and there.

Fiona ushered her out into the hallway. Just before the door clicked shut behind them, Ginny heard Luna exclaim in her wispy voice, "Look! A Blibbering Humdinger! I told you all they were real! Oh, father would be so pleased…"

Ginny followed Fiona blindly for several minutes, and was shocked to find that they had stopped at the Astronomy Tower and not the common room.

"I know we don't have our cloaks, but I think the cold air will do you some good," Fiona explained as she held the door open for Ginny. "Age before beauty."

And it was _cold_. Ginny shivered involuntarily as a bone-chilling gust of wind swept across the top of the tower. The moon was shining brightly, illuminating the grounds and giving the stone a frozen, ethereal quality. They walked over to the nearest ledge and hopped up, allowing their legs to dangle over the edge. Ginny sat in silence, trying to ignore her burning cheeks and rapidly numbing arse. Her breath was condensating in the air, but the wind was blowing fiercely, whisking it away into the night.

"Well, I feel like a first-class arse," she said, finally breaking the silence.

"You acted like a first-class arse."

"You don't believe it do you? That they're hiding?" Ginny asked after a moment.

"No. But I can see how anyone who doesn't know them personally could think that."

"I just wish people would stop spreading such terrible rumors about them. They're out there somewhere trying to save the wizarding world and everyone at home is spending their time trying to figure out how best to slander them. They're not even here to defend themselves."

"I know."

Again, they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Embarrassment was quickly filling the emotional void Ginny's irrational anger had left in its wake. She was replaying the scene from dinner over in her head and felt herself blush just at the memory. Looking down at her hands, she laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?" Fiona questioned.

"I still have my fork."

"I was sure you were going to attack somebody with it back there," she replied with a snort. Jumping back down from the ledge, Fiona began pacing across the tower, trying to regain feeling in her bottom. Ginny watched as she raked her hands through her wind-tousled mop of curly brown hair in agitation. After making several trips from one end to the other, Fiona strode up to Ginny, stopping just inches away.

"Something's gotta give, Ginny."

"What do you mean?" she asked warily.

"I mean this torture you're putting yourself through. I know, I don't know what's going on," she said stalling Ginny's protestations, "but you can't keep living like this. Whatever it is you're bottling up inside, you've got to let it out, or it's going to eat you up!" Fiona was gesturing wildly with her hands now, trying to impress upon Ginny the gravity of the situation.

"I thought we already had this conversation."

"I thought we had too! But I don't think you really see what you're doing to yourself. If you did, you'd put a stop to it straight away."

"What would you have me do about it?" Ginny demanded. She was becoming annoyed by her friend's persistence. "Trust me, if I could make it stop, I would." She slid off the ledge as well. The urge to move was overwhelming. She began pacing the width of the tower in the same manner Fiona had just a minute ago. The wind was whipping Ginny's long red locks across her face, making it difficult to see.

"Make what stop!?" Fiona practically shrieked with frustration.

Ginny halted her pacing and turned her back to Fiona. Holding her head in her hands she began pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes, forcing the tears to remain inside. Luna was the only person who knew about her dreams, but she didn't want to fight with Fiona anymore. She was like a dog with a bone when she wanted to get to the bottom of something, and Ginny was so, _so_ tired.

"Ginny, let me help you," Fiona said as she drew nearer to her.

"You can't," Ginny said, choking back a sob. "No one can help me."

Gently, Fiona turned Ginny so they were facing each other. "I can't if you don't tell me what's wrong. You're not alone."

Ginny stood dumbfounded for a moment before finally releasing two months of stress-filled days, sleepless nights, and rollercoaster emotions. No one had ever told her that before. Luna knew all about the dreams but, Merlin bless her, she wasn't the type you poured your heart out to. And Ginny desperately needed someone with whom to do just that.

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione left she thought she'd break in two; having the man you love, your brother, and your best friend vanish from your life in one fell swoop was not something to be overcome with the flick of a wand. But Ginny had to – for her mum, for herself, for her friends. She had to show them all she had faith in those she loved, that she trusted their decision, that she knew they'd come home alive.

So, she'd pushed it all down, forced her pain into a secret room in her soul and slammed the door behind her. But her experiences over the last two months had filled that secret room to its limit. Her insecurities, fears, anger, confusion, sadness, and loneliness had multiplied at such an exponential rate that they now threatened to blow the hinges off the door and swallow her whole.

Ginny was sobbing now, something she had not allowed herself to do since the night Harry left. Fiona wrapped her arms around Ginny's shuddering frame, whispering words of comfort into Ginny's ear.

"They're dreams…only they're not, really," Ginny mumbled incoherently. "They're more like memories - memories I haven't made yet. Memories I don't think I want to make. And he's always there…but I can't see him…and he's not Harry. I don't want to hurt Harry. I'm so confused…why won't they stop, Fiona? Why is this happening to me? I just want to sleep; I'm so tired…"

No longer having any control, Ginny cried herself dry on Fiona's shoulder. She had no idea how long they stood on top of the Astronomy Tower, shivering in the brutally cold wind, but the sound of Fiona's teeth chattering brought Ginny back to earth.

"I'm sorry," Ginny apologized, breaking the embrace. She began wiping the tears from her face and trying keep her hair out of her eyes. "I feel like such an idiot."

"Don't be silly. I told you I was here for you and I meant it," Fiona admonished. She was brusquely rubbing her arms with her hands, trying to warm up.

"Let's go inside, it's bloody freezing out here," Ginny suggested. "Besides, I've some groveling to do."


	3. Of Cards and Futures

**Disclaimer: Alas, I am not JKR**

**A/N: **Many thanks to Lyr942 for the wonderful beta work! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, as well. Also, I should note the Tarot card mentioned here, _The Circle of 7_, is the only card that is not real. There isn't one that meant what I wanted it to, so I made one up.

* * *

**Of Cards And Futures**

Wednesday, October 29

Miraculously, Fiona had not asked any questions at all about Ginny's tower-top confession. Although she was still paying extra close attention to Ginny's diet, and they now spent almost every free minute together, she seemed to have taken Ginny's words at face value. She simply made her presence known; the rest would be up to Ginny.

Despite her teary effort to lay down her emotional baggage, every dream Ginny had since that night had left her with an ever-growing ball of dread in her gut. They were longer, more intense, disturbing and oftentimes horrifying depictions of battles. There were always people everywhere – some wounded, some dead, others dueling men dressed suspiciously like Death Eaters, fighting for their lives. Her faceless stranger, who, in many ways had become more familiar to her than people she actually knew, was always there by her side. Several times she'd witnessed sickly green jets of light issue forth from unseen wands. Once she'd cast the spell herself.

Ginny knew Fiona was staring at her from across the table, but she didn't care. Her curly-headed friend had taken one look at her admittedly haggard appearance and promptly dragged her to the Great Hall for breakfast – despite Ginny's protestations. So there she sat in the middle of the Gryffindor table, forcing herself to consume a bit of toast and a cup of strong, black coffee.

"You look like hell, girlie," Fiona declared. There was that worried expression again. It kind of reminded Ginny of Hermione. She used to give Harry that exact same look.

"Gee, thanks," Ginny replied sarcastically. "You do wonders for a girl's self esteem." She took another bite of toast and grimaced. "Will you hand me the jam, please?"

"Don't change the subject. I'm not kidding, Ginny. I want you to go see Madame Pomfrey."

"If you don't pass me the jam, I won't be able to finish my toast, making your decision to drag me here a complete waste of time. And I am _not_ going to Madame Pomfrey."

Grudgingly, Fiona handed over the pot of strawberry jam. Ginny spread the red goo liberally over her rye toast before taking a big bite - if only to satisfy Fiona.

"I'm still worried about you. Hell, we're _all_ worried about you."

Ginny set her half empty coffee cup down with a thud before she'd even taken a sip. "You didn't tell them did you?" she asked in an accusatory tone.

"No, of course not. I would never betray your confidence like that. But they're not blind, you know. They know something's bothering you."

Letting out a deep sigh of relief, Ginny drained the rest of her coffee in one gulp. At least her other roommates didn't know about her nightly forays. Standing up, she began collecting her things.

"I appreciate you concern, really, but I'm not going."

"Ginny, please," Fiona begged, "just go see Madame Pomfrey. She might ha-,"

Ginny leaned forward across the table, her palms landing hard on the old wood. Fiona jumped, knocking over her glass of orange juice in the process. She looked nervous, but at this point, Ginny really didn't care. She just wanted her to drop it.

"Madame Pomfrey won't be able to make it stop, Fi. No one can," she hissed so only Fiona would hear. "Leave it alone."

Before the stunned brunette could say anything, Ginny grabbed her toast and school bag and stormed out of the Great Hall. She desperately needed the calm, quiet, orderly sanctuary of the library.

Luna was there, in their usually spot, reading her Ancient Runes text. Ginny plopped down in her chair and let her bag fall to the floor. She had no intention of studying this morning.

"Sorry I'm late."

"Thank you for eating breakfast," Luna said absent-mindedly. Ginny just shook her head. _How does she do that?_

"Fiona made me."

"Fiona is smarter than people give her credit for."

"I just wish she'd quit harassing me about it." Ginny laid her head down on the table in exasperation. "She wants me to go see Madame Pomfrey."

"She's worried about you. That's what friends do."

"Like you?"

"Like me. Except I don't think the answer to your problem can be provided by Madame Pomfrey."

"Oh, not that shite again," Ginny swore, irritated. Would she ever get any peace today? "I am _not_ going to see Professor Trelawney. End of discussion."

"What are you afraid of? That she'll tell you something you already know is true, but are too stubborn to admit?"

"You _really_ think they're visions? Even though there is nothing about them that resembles the definition and contradicts all known examples?"

Finally Luna looked up from her text. "Yes."

Ginny studied her friend's serious expression. She was shocked to see that Luna's normally glassy blue glaze was sharp and crystal clear. Luna truly believed they were visions. Deep down inside, Ginny supposed she had arrived at the same conclusion, she just didn't want to admit it out loud. To say they were visions would be relinquishing control over her life and leaving it in the fickle hands of Fate.

"Fine," Ginny conceded. "I'll go after class today, but only if you come with me. Being alone with that crazy bat is not something I'm looking forward to."

"Oh, yay!" Luna squealed excitedly. She smiled sweetly as the glazed look returned to her big blue orbs. "I'll meet you at the bottom of the tower."

* * *

The sight of Luna waiting patiently on the stairs eased the nauseous feeling in Ginny's stomach – but only a little. Besides the fact that there was no backing out of this dreaded meeting with Professor Trelawney, she had just finished, and more than likely failed (miserably), a History of Magic exam. She wasn't sure which was worse.

When Luna saw her, she jumped up. The serene smile never left her face. "Don't worry Ginny, you passed your exam. Professor Trelawney is waiting for us." Leaving a dumbfounded Ginny in her wake, Luna turned and bounced up the stairs, humming softly to herself.

"How do you do that?!" Ginny shouted after her. She swore the girl must be a mind-reader. Receiving no reply, Ginny took the stairs two at a time until she caught up with her enthusiastic friend.

Six flights of stairs and a ladder climb later, Ginny and Luna were clambering up through the trap door to the Divination classroom. The oppressive heat hit Ginny in waves and the close air stunk of incense. She waved her hand in front of her face in an attempt to clear away the noxious smoke.

"Come in, children," an ethereal voice said from across the cramped room. Professor Trelawney emerged from a heap of pillows and floated towards them. Her mass of wild hair and tattered robes completely overwhelmed her bird-like frame. Her coke-bottle spectacles only reinforced Ginny's avian perception of the eccentric woman.

"I have been expecting you for many weeks," she said looking straight at Ginny. Then her brow furrowed with concern. "Where is the other?"

"It's just us, Professor," Ginny replied in confusion.

_The other?_

She threw a side-long glace at Luna, but she wasn't paying attention. She was looking at a very large, purple-tinted crystal ball that occupied one of the small tables in the centre of the room. There were four chairs placed around it. She really had been expecting another person to join them.

"Will we be using that today, Professor?" Luna asked excitedly. Ginny could see how her friend was one of the few Ravenclaws to not drop Divination. This was, after all, the same girl who believed in Nargles and Wrakspurts, amongst other things. Divination wasn't really a stretch. Besides, she was a natural.

"Yes, of course, my dear," Trelawney replied. Taking Ginny's hand the woman led her over to the table and gestured for her to sit in one of the chairs. She and Luna followed suit.

"Now, tell me," she said in her spooky voice, "what vexes thee?"

"Well," Ginny began nervously, "I've been having these dreams, and Luna thinks they're visions. She's the one who wanted me to come here. She thinks you can help make them stop."

"And what is the nature of these dreams?" Trelawney asked mystically.

"There's a man. He's in every single dream, but I can't see his face. It's like my mind doesn't want to know who he is. Every one is different, too. Sometimes we're having a row, sometimes we're just talking, sometimes we're dueling men in black robes and others are of a more…romantic persuasion."

Professor Trelawney stared blankly at Ginny, making her wonder if she heard a word Ginny had spoken. Just as Ginny opened her mouth to ask if she needed to repeat herself, Professor Trelawney jumped up with surprising agility and swept the crystal ball off the table.

"This won't do," she muttered to herself as she put the ball away. "This won't do at all." Professor Trelawney began rummaging through shelves of odd objects and stacks of paper scattered across the room.

After a minute, Luna spoke up, "Your Tarot cards are in the tea cupboard, Professor."

Without question, Professor Trelawney recovered her much used deck of cards from the tea cupboard – right where Luna said they would be. One would think that four years of being friends with Luna, Ginny would have grown accustomed to such outbursts – Professor Trelawney certainly had.

"Thank you, my dear," she said as she retook her seat. Her expression became slightly concerned. "I do wish the other girl could be here. This affects her too, I'm sure of it."

Ginny was not quite sure what to think. It was obvious that Professor Trelawney was absolutely positive their number should be four, but, for the life of her, Ginny couldn't imagine who it could be. Nor did she want to include anyone else. She had the most disquieting feeling that after this meeting nothing about her life would ever be the same. She couldn't let her dreams affect another person's life as well – that poor unsuspecting soul didn't deserve that.

"Professor, who is it?" Ginny asked, uncomfortably. Perhaps if she knew the other girl's identity, she could ensure that the course of _her_ life remained unaltered.

"I see…hair," she said, staring off to some unknown point behind Ginny. Instinctively, Ginny followed the other witch's gaze. Luna was watching Professor Trelawney raptly. Seeing nothing, Ginny turned back to her teacher.

"Lots of brown hair, nothing more." Trelawney's eternally surprised gaze refocused on Ginny. "She will reveal her self to you in time. Never fear."

Before Ginny could respond, Professor Trelawney shoved the deck into her hands. "Shuffle these, then state your question aloud," she commanded. Ginny did.

"What do my dreams mean."

Professor Trelawney nodded and began dealing the cards face up. The first two she crossed over each other - _The__ 6 of Swords_ inverted, and _The Ace of Wands._ The next for cards were placed north, east, south, and west of the cross, in that order: _The Knight of Wands, The Sun_ inverted, _The 7 of Cups,_ and _The Falling Tower._

"Hmm," Luna said as she fidgeted in her chair. "Very interesting."

The butterflies in Ginny's stomach increased tenfold. Luna's constant motion wasn't helping either. Professor Trelawney was clucking ominously.

"One of you care to enlighten me?"

"These cards," Luna said, pointing to the cross in the middle, "represent you - _The 6 of Swords_ inverted – and an immediate influence - _The Ace of Wands_.

"_The 6_ suggests you are at a stalemate, or are lacking a solution to a problem. _The Ace of Wands_ represents the beginning of an adventure, escapade, or meaningful experience," Trelawney explained.

Ginny silently nodded her head in understanding. It was not encouraging, but it was not inaccurate, either. "What about the others?"

"This card, _The Knight of Wands_, represents your goal or destiny. It is often translated as a departure, journey, flight, or a change of residence or advancement into the unknown.

"The easterly position is held by _The Sun_ inverted, and represents distant past events or feelings: unhappiness, loneliness, an ended relationship, lack of friendship, or a clouded future," Professor Trelawney explained further.

Luna was nodding her head in agreement. Ginny was thinking about Harry. _The Sun_ inverted described perfectly what she'd gone through when he, Ron and Hermione left. Feelings she still felt to some degree today.

"The southerly position denotes the recent past. _The 7 of Cups_ represents dreams or fantasies."

"What about _The Falling Tower_?" Ginny asked Professor Trelawney. "What does it mean?" The card had a foreboding look about it, which she did not like.

Its position represents any future influences. It means complete and sudden change, a breakdown of old beliefs, abandonment of past relationships, and severing of a friendship. It can also mean a physical death, though not necessarily the questioner's.

"Well, that's reassuring," Ginny snapped sarcastically.

Professor ignored her. She was not finished. She flipped over another card and placed it down and to the right of the easterly card. It was the _Chariot_.

"This card represents you, the questioner, right now." Ginny nodded. "It is translated as a possible voyage or journey, escape, rushing to decisions, trouble, the need for attention to details, and urgency to gain control over your emotions."

She flipped over another card and situated it directly above _The Chariot_. It was _The Page of Wands_. "Your decisions and environment will be affected by a person who is faithful, loyal, entrusted, and consistent."

"That's not a bad card, Ginny," Luna piped up.

Ginny threw her friend a weak but appreciative smile. Professor Trelawney turned over a third card.

"What does _The Knight of Swords_ represent?" Ginny asked.

"Bravery, skill, heroic action, opposition, war, and impetuous rush into the unknown without fear."

"And the position?"

"It represents the questioner's - your – inner emotions, desires, or personality."

Ginny smirked. The card was the embodiment of the Gryffindor spirit.

Another card was revealed and placed above _The Knight of Swords_: _The Circle of 7_.

"Ooo," said Luna when she saw the card.

"What?" Ginny asked, not sure what to make of her friend's reaction.

"Your end result is promising, despite the abrupt changes that appear to lie ahead of you, my dear," Trelawney offered. _"The Circle of 7_ represents a deep friendship sown from the seeds of love, trust, and devotion. The friends may number seven, though not necessarily."

Ginny sat silently for a minute, trying to absorb and comprehend all of the information laid out before her. It was by no means conclusive, but she did sense a theme throughout the reading – a negative one. How could so much change be good?

"What's the difference between the circle and the line of cards on the side here?" Ginny asked.

Trelawney replied, "The cards which compose the crossed circle pertain to the question you asked at the beginning, while the staff," she gestured towards the four aligned cards, "are applied directly to the questioner."

"Oh," she replied, "so what does it all mean?"

"I'd say you will be leaving us, and quite soon."

A large lump formed in Ginny's throat at Professor Trelawney's words. "But it could still change based on the decisions I make, right?"

"Most certainly. There is always free will, my dear."

Ginny was not sure if she should be relieved or disappointed. She felt like this had been a colossal waste of time. A resolution was no closer now than it was thirty minutes ago.

"So what was the point?" she demanded in frustration.

"The Tarot, and your dreams, are simply a guide, Miss Weasley," Professor Trelawney said mystically. "I sense that your inner eyes is wide open; do not ignore what it sees."

* * *

After her discomfiting conference with Professor Trelawney, Ginny spent the remainder of the day wandering aimlessly around the castle. She had much to ponder, and if Trelawney's prediction was any indicator, she didn't have much more time to think about it. The whole experience had been overwhelming, and Ginny was having a difficult time organizing her thoughts.

There were, however, some things that she did know. Four of the cards on the table said a journey was eminent; at least she could be on the look out for that opportunity. _The Knight of Swords, The Sun_ inverted, _The 7 of Cups,_ and _The 6 of Swords_ inverted were all unnervingly accurate. And there were only two truly positive cards in the spread: _The Page of Wands,_ and _The Circle of 7_.

Nevertheless, none of this new insight made Ginny any more comfortable with the dies of her future being laid out before her and beyond her control. She now knew how Harry must feel. His path was chosen for him before he was even born.

Ginny hated feeling so helpless. Professor Trelawney said that she had a choice in the course her life would take, but if the dreams were a metaphorical road map, weren't the choices already made?

All of the information she had pointed towards a life-altering journey. _Hurray!,_ she thought sarcastically. _At least I get to take a friend…_

"Shite," she swore aloud. Ginny stopped in her tracks as her braid was deluged with memories. A random word with a friend, several dreams, and Ginny's consultation with Professor Trelawney sped in rapid succession through her head.

_A journey…_

"France."

_A loyal friend…"lots of brown hair"… "I want my bloody broom back"…"I was so worried about you"…_

"Fiona." Ginny's stomach sank. "Oh sweet Merlin."

It was Fiona who should have been in that fourth chair. It was Fiona in her dreams – of course. Ginny cursed her own stupidity; she should have realized it sooner. Whenever it came time to make that journey, she was just going to have to be extra careful not to be caught by Fiona.

Ginny groaned aloud. Her head was pounding and her feet hurt from walking so much. Not to mention the fact that she had barely slept more than twelve hours in the past four nights, or that she hadn't eaten anything since her very meager breakfast.

Ginny looked around. It was dark outside and the only light in the vacant hallways came from the silvery orb floating above the school. Despite this, Ginny really didn't want to go back to her dorm. Curfew or not, she simply did not have the strength to weather another round of twenty questions with Fiona. Nor could she stand to face her friend with the knowledge she now possessed.

Ginny wandered for a few more minutes before she recognized where she was. The deserted seventh floor corridor stretched out ahead. She was standing directly in front of the completely bare wall on which the door to the Room of Requirement would appear should she desire it.

Without hesitation, Ginny paced rapidly back and forth three times.

_I need a quiet place._

_I need a quiet place._

_I need a quiet place._

When she finished the ritual, a familiar door appeared and Ginny opened it right away. The small room inside was exactly what she'd wanted. A blazing fire and a solitary oil lamp were the only sources of light, making the room feel even cozier. Grateful for the quiet and the privacy, Ginny plopped down on the squishy burgundy sofa which was situated in front of the hearth. Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she extinguished the lamp and promptly fell asleep.

_Ginny shivered; perhaps leaving her cloak and robes inside hadn't been such a bright idea after all. Her grey sweater and jeans did little to keep out the winter wind. She refused to rub her arms for warmth; he needed to talk and she wasn't about to interrupt because of a little cold._

"_I have to stop him. Everything he's doing is to flush me out. I can't keep allowing him to murder people just to get to me," he said. The pain in his voice was almost unbearable._

_Ginny took his hand and pulled him down to the mossy ground. Even with the heavy cloud cover the swift moving stream glistened in the night. Once he was seated Ginny turned his head towards her leaving their faces only inches apart._

"_We'll put an end to this, you and I," she promised. "But we can't just wait for him to show himself – we need to attack."_

"_They outnumber us four to one, Weasley. I won't risk their lives in an all-out assault."_

"_But you'll sit here and do nothing while he picks us off, one by one? No. Being proactive is the only way."_

"_You don't understand what you're suggesting," he whispered._

"_Yes, I do. We've done it before, we can do it again."_

"_This time is different. This time-"_

"_This time you're afraid," Ginny finished. She didn't want to be so harsh with him, but he needed to understand that being reactionary was going to cost more lives in the long run._

"_Those men in there," she said, gesturing towards the cabin, "they'd follow you to Hell if you asked them."_

"_That's what I'm afraid of," he retorted. "I could never ask them to sacrifice themselves to settle __**my**__ score."_

"_When are you going to realize that you're not just playing leader – you __**are**__ their leader," Ginny said passionately. "Your men love you. I love you."_

_Momentarily forgetting to breath, Ginny stopped short as soon as the words left her mouth. She did love him; she knew that now. Embarrassed by her outburst, Ginny felt a hot flush creep into her cheeks. She was very grateful for the night._

_She could feel his eyes studying her, even though she couldn't see his face. Turning her head towards the babbling brook, Ginny fingered a small stone before tossing it into the water. Despite the fact that it was absolutely possible that he did not return her affections, she was completely comfortable with the way she felt – she would not allow herself to be ashamed to love someone._

"_Listen, you don't ha-"_

_Ginny never got to finish that sentence. Before she could react his mouth crashed onto hers in a fierce kiss. Overwhelmed by its intensity, Ginny didn't respond until she felt the tip of his tongue swipe teasingly across her bottom lip, begging entrance._

_Snapping out of her daze, Ginny immediately opened her mouth and allowed him to explore every inch of it with his velvet tongue. She wrapped her hand behind his head, weaving her fingers through his silky hair. _

_Her heart skipped a beat when she felt his hand gently caress her side before gripping her waist firmly and clutching her to his body. Never breaking the kiss, Ginny allowed him to escort her to the ground. She wrapped her free hand around his back and pulled him even tighter. He moaned into her mouth at the contact._

_Ginny could have stayed like that forever, tangled up with him on the river bank, breathing him in like oxygen. She'd had her fair share of snogging sessions, but no one had ever kissed her like he was kissing her right now. He tasted her as though her flavor alone could sustain him; he held on to her like she might disappear like a wisp of smoke at any moment. He needed her. _

_Lungs on fire for lack of air, he finally broke off the kiss. Ginny hummed in contentment. Propping himself up on an elbow, he looked down at her._

"_No one has ever told me that before," he said, breathing heavily. Ginny thought she heard a slight tremor in his voice – but maybe it was just the cold._

"_I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," Ginny said, trying to catch her breath as well. "I was afraid. I'm not afraid anymore."_

"_I love you too, Ginny," he whispered._

_Ginny grabbed his head and kissed him hard, pouring every ounce of passion she possessed into the kiss. She thought her heart might literally explode, it was so full. Nothing in her life had ever felt so perfect, so right, as kissing him._

_She felt herself grow hot despite the cold and blood was rushing in large volumes to places it did not usually rush. His tongue was drawing out responses from her body like nobody ever had. Needing friction, Ginny wrapped one leg around his hips and bucked her pelvis into his. When she ground into his erection, she was a little surprised, but pleased that she was having the same effect on him as he was on her. They moaned simultaneously when she did it again._

_Abandoning his grip on her waist, he slid his hand up her thigh to give her arse a firm squeeze. Ginny gasped and bucked a third time, feeling her knickers grow damp. She arched into his body forcing their swollen lips to part._

"_I think we should go inside," she said breathlessly._

"_Yeah," he responded, kissing her tenderly. "Maybe we should."_

Ginny awoke abruptly, panting, a little more than hot-and-bothered, and cursing every deity she'd ever heard of. After throwing a proper tantrum, she spent the remainder of the night crying in frustration, sulking pensively, or dosing fitfully. She had decided one thing, however. Whatever choice had to be made, she would without a doubt choose the one that would make these torturous dreams stop.


	4. The Page of Wands

**A/N:**_I'm sorry this took me so long to finish. I got carried away with my other fic. I know, I know, that's a sorry excuse, but it's all I have. Thank you for being patient and hanging in there with me._

_I would also like to thank Lyr942 for all of her wonderful beta work. She's fabulous._

* * *

**The Page of Wands**

* * *

Friday, October 31 

_Straddling his hips, Ginny pulled her top over her head and dropped the light green material over the edge of the bed. His hands attacked her smooth skin immediately, trying to touch every square inch. Needing to kiss him, she wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and tugged him into a sitting position beneath her. She crashed her lips onto his in a searing kiss._

_Cupping her arse, he drew her closer. The action sent bolts of electricity tearing through her body, leaving her breathless. He broke the kiss, but immediately reattached his mouth to Ginny's neck, just below her jaw._

_Ginny moaned aloud not caring who might hear. She felt her arousal grow with every kiss, lick, and bite as he made his way down towards her chest. Craving the feel of his skin on hers, needing to touch him, she forced her trembling fingers to undo the buttons on his shirt._

_Finally, she gave up and ripped his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. Ginny sighed when her hands found the smooth skin of his toned chest. When she lightly raked her fingernails over his nipples, it was his turn to moan. _

_In one easy motion he rolled them over and pinned her beneath him. Without a word he continued his ministrations, leaving a trail of hungry kisses down Ginny's flat stomach. He stopped to swirl his tongue around her navel._

"_Dear Merlin," she gasped. Her voice was so deep and husky with desire that she hardly recognized it._

_He smiled up at her as he slid the hand not supporting his weight up her thigh and to the waistband of her jeans. He had much more luck unbuttoning Ginny's pants than she had with his shirt. She raised her hips off the bed, allowing him to pull her pants to her knees._

_Ginny's heart was pounding with anticipation._

_Suddenly, a great explosion rocked the house, causing the entire room to vibrate and rattle. The concussion from the blast shattered the bedroom window, letting the freezing air cascade into the room._

"_What in the seven hells was that?" Ginny asked, sitting up. A sense of foreboding squeezed tight around her chest. She had a feeling this night was not going to end the way she had been planning._

"_I don't know," he said. "But it sounded like it came from the eastern corner." Ginny nodded her head in agreement._

_A loud knock came at the door._

_**Bang, bang, bang.**_

"_We are under attack." The muffled voice sounded like Adrienne._

_Ginny felt the blood drain from her face as the words sank in. They were under attack._

"_It's happening," she whispered._

_They both sprang into action. Ginny rolled off the bed and hastily pulled her pants up and tugged her shirt over her head. Grabbing both wands off of the table, she tossed one to her lover. He had discarded his ruined shirt in favor of a black t-shirt. The dark material contrasted beautifully with his fair complexion, but that was the farthest thought from her mind._

_Together they burst into the hallway. It was swarming with people. Their fear was palpable. Not that Ginny was unafraid._

"_Thomas!" her lover shouted behind her. The short stocky man with dusty brown hair and brown eyes who was striding purposefully past them stopped in his tracks. His composure impressed her. He was as calm as a summer breeze, but as determined as stone._

"_What happened?" she asked in French._

"_Les Mangeurs de Mort."_

_He continued his trek down the hall with Ginny and her lover in tow. She had not needed to hear his answer; her gut had known._

_The clearing in front of the cabin was in complete chaos. The eastern corner had in fact endured some sort of explosion and was still smoldering. Everywhere Ginny looked her comrades were dueling bravely with black-cloaked men. The moonlight glinted off of their silver death masks._

_As they exited the cabin, an enormous troll lumbered into the clearing and began bashing everything in sight with a club half its height. Without hesitation the three rushed over to it and began firing curses at it. A moment later, Fiona joined the group. They split up and surrounded the creature. Ginny was flanked by Fiona and Thomas and opposite her lover._

_It was a difficult fight, ducking the troll's enraged attacks, maintaining her footing, and accurately aiming spells. Around them, the battle raged on._

"_I bet you're wishing you'd let me finish him when I had the chance, aren't you!" he shouted as he dodged a blow that would have hammered him about three feet into the ground._

"_Tell me you told me so later!" Ginny shouted back._

_She watched in horror as a jet of red light came out of nowhere and hit the man whose face she had yet to see in the back. He fell in a crumpled heap onto the frozen earth._

"_NO!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Then blackness took her..._

_Ginny crouched low behind a giant boulder next to Adrienne who was speaking rapidly in French to Thomas. She tuned them out. Her vantage point overlooked the rocky, snow-covered valley. On the opposite side, a castle of dark grey stone rose out of the earth as if the mountain had birthed the keep whole. A forest of towers and spires, it was a terrible sight to behold._

_And he was somewhere inside._

_Ginny's heart constricted painfully in her chest. She could not lose him. Not like this._

_A firm hand on her shoulder drew her attention from the morose thoughts swirling in her head. It was Thomas. His imperturbable demeanor was reassuring._

"_We will find him," he said in French. Adrienne nodded grimly. "I'll take the first watch. You should get some rest..."_

_Ginny bolted upright, barely suppressing the scream that threatened to tear free of her throat. She was sweating profusely and shaking uncontrollably. Her hands flew to her ears in an attempt to silence the screams of agony reverberating in her skull._

_It was him. They were torturing him, right now, and she could hear his screams in her head so loudly it hurt. She began to cry..._

Ginny awoke so abruptly that she fell out of bed and onto the floor. Wiping her face, she pulled her hands back to see they were wet with tears. She had been crying in her dreams. She was still crying.

Sitting up and tucking her knees underneath her, Ginny wrapped her arms about herself and began rocking back and forth. She was struggling vainly to gain control of her self. She felt so raw and exposed.

"Ginny?" said a sleepy voice on the other side of the room. "Why are you on the floor?"

"I-" Her voice cracked, causing her to begin again. "I had a bad dream is all. Go back to sleep, Fiona. I'm sorry I woke you."

The sound of bed linens rustling seemed incredibly loud in the silent room. Fiona sat up.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she replied, her voice quavering slightly. "No, I'm going to get a glass of water and try to go back to sleep." Hopefully, that would pacify her friend. Ginny knew full well she would not get another wink that night.

"Alright," she said after a moment. "But if you want to, I'm here."

"Thanks, Fi. Now, go back to sleep. I'll be fine."

After she heard Fiona lay back down and make herself comfortable, Ginny stood on trembling legs and walked to the lavatory. Not bothering to light the lamp on the counter, she plopped down on the toilet and hung her head in her hands. She could still hear his screams in her head. Ginny began crying again.

The terror she had felt in her dream hung around her like a shroud. It threatened to swallow her completely. She did not understand how she could feel all of the things she felt for someone she did not even know. None of it made any sense at all.

And she was terrified – for herself as well as for him. Whoever he was.

After a few minutes, her tears tapered off, and Ginny decided she really would like a glass of water. At the sink she fumbled with the matches and lit the oil lamp. She stared at her reflection in a sudden moment of clarity.

She _had_ to go to him. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Ginny knew that every dream had been leading up to this moment. She was supposed to be there, by his side, as insane as that sounded.

Brown eyes wide with the revelation, Ginny made her decision. He needed her help, and not even Voldemort himself would stop her. Finally, she would be doing something. Her panic and despair faded to the background and was replaced by a sense of certainty. And urgency.

Instead of getting her water, Ginny jumped in the shower and washed even though it was only three o'clock in the morning. A plan was already forming in her head. All she had to do was not be caught.

* * *

Sun-up found Ginny in a remote corner of the library, poring over a well used tome. It had taken her forever to locate a book on Language Charms, and just as long to find one which would provide the target with comprehension. She would be traveling in France, and it would not do to be ignorant of the language. It would also help her blend in with the locals. 

A little voice in her head kept telling her how completely and thoroughly cracked she was for even considering going through with her plan. It sounded strangely like her mother. Ginny ignored it. She was not about to second guess herself. This was too important to her.

Hurriedly, Ginny began practicing the charm in the hopes of learning it before she was to meet Luna on the other side of the library. Thankfully, it was not a terribly difficult spell. It mostly required the caster to focus on the desired language more than the incantation itself.

Completely engrossed in her work, Ginny did not hear Luna approach. She dropped her bag rather ungracefully on the table, just about scaring Ginny out of her skin.

"I brought you some breakfast," Luna said, ignoring Ginny's squeak. She unwrapped a napkin and placed a large cranberry scone on the table. "I would have brought you some tea, but I didn't want to be caught by Madam Pince."

"It's ok. The scone's fine." Ginny took a large bite to prove her point. "How did you know I was here?" she asked around her mouthful.

Luna shrugged and pulled her Arithmancy text out of her bag. It was full to bursting, sadly reminding Ginny of Hermione.

"What are you working on?"

"Charms." It wasn't entirely false.

"You look better today. Did you dream last night?"

"Yes, but I don't want to talk about it right now."

Luna studied Ginny, who was pointedly avoiding making eye contact. Instead, she turned her gaze back to the text before her.

"Make sure you bring your cloak," Luna said. "I imagine the winters in France are just as cold as they are here."

Ginny froze, completely caught off guard. She should have expected Luna to figure it out. "What are you talking about?"

"You're doing what you must. I won't tell anyone."

Ginny stared at her prescient friend, dumbfounded. "Um, thank you?" She really didn't know what to say.

Luna smiled conspiratorially. "Have you told Fiona yet?"

Ginny wracked her brain, trying to remember if she'd shared that particular revelation. She honestly couldn't recall.

"No, why would I do that?"

"She is supposed to go with you, right?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

"What makes you think you have any say?"

Ginny shuddered involuntarily. Was Luna referring to Fate's cruel hand, or Fiona's remarkably wide stubborn streak? She obstinately decided it was the latter.

"She can't come with me unless she knows I'm going, which she doesn't," Ginny said petulantly.

"You know that's not what I meant. This is her destiny as much as it's yours. Don't deny her that because you're afraid for her safety," Luna said softly.

"But I _am_ afraid for her. I don't see why I need to drag her into this lunacy. And don't give me that tripe about 'destiny'," Ginny said firmly. "The only think this is destined to be is a colossal disaster."

"Then why are you doing it?"

"Because I have to."

"If that's not destiny, I don't know what is."

Ginny grimaced even as her own words betrayed her. Regardless of Luna's logic, she desperately needed to maintain the illusion that this quest was her decision, that she'd had a choice. She wasn't quite ready to surrender her future to the Fates.

"Look," Ginny said with a resigned sigh. "I want you to promise me you won't say anything to her, okay?"

"I promise, but don't be surprised if she figures it out. I did."

"You're special. And thank you."

Luna merely smiled before turning her attention towards her neglected Arithmancy text. Ginny finished her scone in silence, but was surprised to realize that she was actually very, very hungry. It would seem that with newly found direction also came a renewed appetite.

Quickly, Ginny copied down the Translation Charm she had been learning and began shoving books and sheaves of parchment into her bag. Luna peered up at her serenely.

"I'm starving," she explained, "and I want some proper breakfast. You don't mind, do you?"

Luna shooed her away with one hand. "Be gone, child. The bangers and mash were exceptional this morning."

"Thanks. I'll see you at the feast tonight," Ginny said, shouldering her bag.

"Bye, Ginny."

* * *

After an incredibly large breakfast and three tediously dull classes, Ginny found herself once again in the Great Hall. She sat between Fiona and Amelia enjoying a rather tasty tomato sandwich and a lively conversation as to whether or not the Hollyhead Harpies were going to trounce Puddlemere United or not. Amelia, an avid United fan, was losing the debate. 

"I don't know why you bother arguing with them," Mallory piped up from across the table. "Everyone here knows the only reason you support Puddlemere is because you've fancied Oliver Wood since you were like six years old."

Amelia blushed crimson, but unfortunately for her, she was just too slow in mounting any defense at all, let alone an effective one. Mallory and Fiona cracked up laughing.

"Hey," Ginny said with mock seriousness and a grin. "Had you two known him when you were six, you would have fancied him, too. He was bloody gorgeous, even then."

Oliver Wood had played Quidditch with Fred, George, and Charlie, and had also been friends with Amelia's cousin, Lee Jordan. Both of the girls had had the fortunate experience of meeting Mr. Wood on more than one occasion growing up. Ginny, however, was not embarrassed like Amelia was.

"Sounds like somebody had a school-girl crush," Fiona teased, nudging Ginny with her elbow.

"I wonder what Harry and Ron would say if they knew you fancied him." Amelia said. "I know Lee would have shite a Kneazle."

Ginny noticed Fiona tense almost imperceptibly, as though she was bracing for another hysterical outburst. Ginny, too, paused; she had not expected that Harry or Ron would weasel their way into the conversation. But, she figured that Amelia had meant nothing by the comment and decided to play it off as naturally as possible. She was, however, still rankled that Harry and her brother had been dragged into another innocent discussion.

Ginny barked a dry laugh. "I doubt very much that Harry gives a damn about who I fancy anymore." She couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice. Luckily, her friends were too busy eating to notice. _"Ron_, on the other hand, would shite a hippogriff. The standards he's set for potential men in my life are ridiculously high."

Ginny could feel Fiona's curious gaze. It only intensified when she reached for a second sandwich.

"Brothers are like that," Fiona said slowly.

Mallory, who was facing the Hall, stood and collected her bag. "It's time to go," she said.

Ginny twisted her neck around; the other students were preparing for their next classes. She had a free period next, but she wouldn't have gone even if she had. There were things she needed to get in order before the feast – including catching a few hours sleep.

As a group, the girls left the Great Hall. Ginny was still munching on her sandwich. Once through the enormous double doors, Fiona pulled her aside and studied her appraisingly. Ginny squirmed, knowing a barrage of questions was eminent.

"Something happened. What was it?" Fiona demanded.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked evasively.

"You're…different today," she replied, making a funny face. "And you're eating."

Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically. "Don't sound so disappointed. I can go back to brooding and starving myself, if you like."

Fiona frowned. "I didn't mean that. I just wanted to know what changed."

Ginny shrugged noncommittally. "I realized some things last night."

Fiona arched an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain that rather vague statement. Ginny, however, was not about to go into details.

"Don't you have a class to get to?"

"Yes," Fiona said, momentarily admitting defeat. "But can we talk later?"

"Yeah," Ginny said. "After the feast." She felt bad lying to her friend when she knew full well that she was not going to tell Fiona diddly. It would be difficult considering she planned to be long gone by the time the feast ended.

Fiona rushed off to class after a brief farewell while Ginny walked in the opposite direction towards Gryffindor tower.

* * *

It did not take long for Ginny to pack her things as most of her belongings were already in her trunk. She left out only her broomstick, her heavy flying gear, a change of clothes and her satchel. Ginny sighed in a pleased manner; her list of things to do was now very short. 

Alone in the seventh year girls' dormitory, Ginny called for Dobby. He Apparated directly in front of her with a soft _pop_.

"Miss Weasley is needing Dobby?" the scraggly House Elf said cheerily. His luminous eyes were wide with excitement and his ears sheathed in lemon yellow socks.

"Hullo, Dobby," she greeted. "Would you mind doing me a favor?"

Dobby bobbed his head. "Dobby is doing anything for a friend of Harry Potter."

Ginny smiled sadly, feeling as though she could hardly be called Harry's friend anymore. She wondered briefly whether or not they could ever be friends again after the gulf his absence had created grew between them.

"If you could pack me about a week's worth of sandwiches, as well as some fruit and water, I'd really appreciate it."

Dobby bowed deeply and vanished from the room.

Ginny sat on her bed to compose two letters while Dobby was procuring her provisions.

_Edmund,_

_I'm sorry I left on such short notice, but it was unavoidable. Please take over my responsibilities as Captain. I know you'll do well, and don't let Fiona give you any shite. McGonagall has a copy of the practice timetables._

_Good luck,_

_Ginny_

She felt a pang of remorse that she might not play Quidditch again, but was not to be deterred. Her 'destiny,' as Luna had so glibly dubbed it, was far more important than a game. She was going to miss it terribly, though.

The next letter would not be so easy to write, and she knew she needed to choose her words with care.

_Mum,_

_I am so sorry for doing this to you, but know that it is not my intention to hurt you. I can't tell you where I'm going, or what I'm doing, but I promise it's important. This is my chance to change things, so I hope you understand that I would regret not doing this for the rest of my life. Don't cry for me, Mum._

_I love you, and will miss you,_

_Ginny_

It was with a heavy heart that she folded the letter to her mother. Ginny knew this would crush her. She could only hope that when ("if" piped that small voice that sounded like her mother) she returned, she will have accomplished something that she and her mum could be proud of.

Dobby reappeared shortly, bearing a tray laden with enough sandwiches for three people, a netted sack full of apples and oranges, and two metal canteens strapped across his chest.

"Dobby is bringing Miss Weasley what Miss Weasley is asking for," the diminutive elf squeaked.

"Wow, Dobby," Ginny said as she took the tray from him and set it on the bed. "This is fantastic. You can set those on the bed. I really can't thank you enough."

Dobby beamed, and did as he was bid. "Dobby is happy to help. Is Miss Weasley needing anything else from Dobby?"

Ginny grabbed the two letters she'd just written. "I need you to deliver a couple of letters for me tomorrow. This one," she said, "goes to a boy here in Gryffindor name Edmund Tomlinson. And this one you can just send with an owl in the morning. Can you remember that?"

Dobby nodded emphatically, dislodging a sock, which he deftly scooped up and replaced on his ear. He took the letters from Ginny and clutched them to his chest as though he was afraid he might lose them. "Dobby is remembering."

Ginny smiled. "Thank you so much for your help."

He bowed once more and Disapparated form the room.

Turning to the mountain of food on her bed, Ginny slid the sandwiches off the tray and transfigured it into a box with a lid. She should have known Dobby would bring twice as much food as she'd asked for. She filled the box with her provisions, shrunk the box, and added everything to her bag.

Now that she was packed and ready to go, she climbed into bed to catch a few hours of sleep.

* * *

Ginny was relieved but not shocked that she had managed to get a whole six hours of completely undisturbed sleep. The feast would start soon, so she forced herself out of her warm bed. It was both depressing and exciting to think that it would be the last time she slept in it for a while. It would all depended on how quickly she found the mysterious man how haunted her dreams.

The Great Hall was abuzz with excitement and decorated as extravagantly as years past. The enormous room was lit with floating jack-o-lanterns and the enchanted ceiling showed a clear, star-filled night outside. It would be an excellent night for flying.

Ginny took a seat between Kimmy and a tiny little second year whose name she did not know. "Hullo," she greeted.

"Ah, she's alive after all," Mallory teased. She was sitting next to Fiona who was opposite Ginny.

Ginny laughed. "Sorry. I'd wanted to take a nap during my free period, but ended up sleeping all afternoon. I just woke up a few minutes ago."

She hated lying to her friends. At least there was only one left to tell before she left.

Ginny must have had an odd look on her face as she thought, or maybe Fiona was more perceptive than she gave her credit for, because she was looking at Ginny with a skeptical expression. "You feeling alright there, girlie?"

"Yeah, I feel great," she replied a bit too cheerfully. It was the truth, but Ginny chastised her enthusiasm. The last thing she wanted to do was alert Fiona that something was, in fact, up.

Luckily, Ginny was spared further interrogation when large platters of steaming hot food appeared on the wooden table. She breathed a sigh of relief.

The meal was fabulous, and Ginny ate with fervor, but was having a terrible time focusing on her housemates' conversations. She was aware of Fiona's surreptitious vigilance, but could not keep her mind from wandering. She was both ecstatic and terrified about what she was going to do. Half of her brain (again, the half that sounded just like her mother) was telling her to abandon this harebrained idea at once, but the other half kept laying plans for after she arrived in France.

When the dinner plates disappeared and dessert was served, Ginny's stomach knotted up with anticipation, and her heart was thudding so loudly she was sure everyone at the table could hear. Ordering her mother's voice to stop yelling so loudly, Ginny snatched a pumpkin pastie and excused herself from the table.

"Oi, where do you think you're going, girlie?" Fiona asked, completely neglecting her bowl of pudding.

"I've some homework I want to get done before Hogsmeade. I'll see you later."

She hurried away from the table before Fiona could question her further. As soon as she was clear of the Great Hall, Ginny broke into a dead sprint and ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower.

Had she looked back one last time, she might have seen Fiona rise and follow her.

Had Fiona done the same, she would have seen Luna leave her table, unnoticed by her housemates, and exit the Hall as well.

* * *

Ginny had hardly been in the dormitory for two whole minutes and was in the process of shrugging out of her school robes when Fiona burst into the room. Her round cheeks were flushed from running.

"Homework my arse," she said indignantly. "You're up to something, and you're going to tell me what."

Ginny only paused in surprise at her arrival for a moment before continuing to deftly remove her uniform. She considered lying to her, but decided to argue instead. There was really no point in pretending.

"No."

"No, you're not up to something, or now, you're not going to tell me."

"I'm not going to tell you."

Ginny pulled on a pair of jeans and a black sweater. Then she threw her shoes in her trunk in favor of her flying boots. She sat on the bed to put them on.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Fiona yelled. Ginny said nothing. "You are!"

"Go back to the feast, Fi. Pretend you never saw me," Ginny said as she began donning her winter equipment.

To her chagrin, Fiona did the exact opposite. Instead, the feisty brunette marched over to her trunk and began yanking out her own flying clothes. As Fiona was always late for Quidditch, she was very skilled at changing quickly.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ginny demanded.

"I'm bloody well going with you."

"Like hell you are."

Fiona removed her broom and cloak from her trunk before haphazardly throwing the rest of her possessions inside.

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not."

Dressed and packed, Fiona stood in the middle of the room with her hands planted on her ample hips. Ginny swore she was channeling Hermione; the glare she was receiving from the brunette was dead on.

"Will it be dangerous?"

"Yes," Ginny said with a huff. "Which is why you're not coming."

"Then I am absolutely coming," Fiona said.

"I don't need your protection, if that's what you're thinking," Ginny said bitterly. She was sick of people treating her like a child.

Fiona snorted. "To hell with protection. Do you think I'm going to let you have all the fun?"

"Damn your stubbornness!" Ginny shouted.

Fiona was unfazed. "Pot. Kettle. Black."

"You don't even know where I'm going or why," Ginny argued, grasping at straws by this point.

"Does it matter?"

"You're being an idiot."

"No more than you, girlie," Fiona said with an amused smirk.

Ginny wanted to smack it right off her pretty little face, but settled for what she hoped was the glare to rival all glares.

"Fine," she said, resisting the urge to stomp her foot. "Shrink your trunk and I'll put it in my bag." She pointedly ignored Fiona's squeal of delight. "We've wasted enough time already."

A minute later Ginny was shoving the two jewelry box sized trunks into her bag and slinging it over her back. She held her broom in her hand.

"Are you ready?" Fiona asked. She was fully decked out for the trip and had her broom strapped across her back.

Ginny nodded. "Shut your bed curtains. With Hogsmeade tomorrow they might not notice we're gone until supper.

Fiona did as she was told; Ginny did the same to her bed. With one more look around the room, the two girls left Gryffindor tower.

Because the students were still enjoying their afters in the Great Hall, and because Ginny took as many back passageways as possible, they arrived at the statue of the humpbacked witch without meeting a single soul. They did not even chance upon Mrs. Norris, who had an uncanny knack for finding students where they oughtn't to be.

Ginny stopped at the ugly statue and was about to say the password when Luna appeared from out of nowhere. The blonde had apparently been sitting on the floor, waiting for Ginny.

"Merlin's pants, Luna," Ginny said, jumping back, dropping her broom in the process. "How do you bloody _do_ that?"

"Merlin didn't wear pants, Ginny. He always wore robes. I brought you something." She withdrew two silver Sickles out of her robes and handed one each to Fiona and Ginny. "Hello, Fiona. I had a feeling you'd be tagging along."

Fiona arched an eyebrow. "How did you know that? I didn't even know until five minutes ago."

"Because it's your destiny," Luna said bluntly.

Ginny had expected Fiona to crack up laughing, but she didn't. Instead she was looking at Luna like she'd suddenly sprouted turnips out of her ears.

"What are these for?" Ginny asked. She was anxious to get a move on. Every second they spent in the corridor was another second in which they might be caught.

"I put a Protean Charm on them," Luna said, referring to the Sickles. "Just incase we need to communicate. I have one, too."

"That's brilliant, Luna," Ginny said.

"What's a Protean Charm?" Fiona asked, shoving the coin into her back pocket.

"You put a message on the coin and it appears on the others. Nifty little charm, really. Hermione found it when we started DA fourth year," Ginny explained. She, too, put the coin in her pants' pocket.

Ginny gave Luna a warm hug. "Thanks, Luna. I'll keep in touch."

Luna smiled serenely. "Good luck, Ginny. I hope you find him. Goodbye, Fiona."

"Er, 'bye, Luna," Fiona said awkwardly.

Ginny leaned towards the statue and whispered, _"Dissendium."_

The concealed entrance behind the witch appeared. Throwing one last, slightly nervous smile at Luna, Ginny jumped in and slid swiftly down the slide to the dirt floor below. Fiona arrived a moment later, crashing into her.

"_Uff,_" said Ginny as the air was knocked out of her lungs. Fiona was coughing behind her, having gotten a mouthful of dirt after their collision.

A clattering noise was heard as Ginny's broom tumbled down into the small underground chamber. Fiona lit her wand silently.

"Thank you," Ginny shouted up the tunnel.

"No problem," Luna's wispy voice wafted down.

"I can't believe I almost left without my broom," Ginny muttered. "That would have been a grand way to begin."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, girlie," Fiona said. "Now, how did you know that door was hiding there behind that statue?"

Ginny lit her wand too, and began walking down the tunnel. "You're kidding, right? I am related to _the_ Fred and George Weasley. They know every square inch of this castle."

"My apologies, Miss Weasley," Fiona joked behind her. "I don't know how I could have forgotten."

Ginny laughed. "Sometimes I wish I could."

"So, where does this lead?"

"The cellar beneath Honeydukes."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"How you do plan on getting us out of the cellar?"

"Very quietly."

* * *


	5. A France

**A/N: Hello, all, sorry this took me so long. I had a bit or a writer's block (and by 'bit' I mean a block the size of the Great Wall of China) over the holiday, but I'm back now! Please let me know what you think of this chapter, I really do love your reviews! Merci beaucoup, Lyr942. You're amazing. Everone should go check out her fic, "When I Needed You the Most" here on ff. I hope you enjoy this!**

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* * *

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**Á France**

Saturday, 1 November

_Ginny walked into the well-lit pub and stopped in her tracks when she saw him. Fiona bumped into her from behind, causing her to stumble and drawing the attention of several people near the door._

"_Sorry," Fiona whispered._

"_It's alright," Ginny replied distractedly. _

_Her eyes were fixed on the blond head seated at the bar in the back. His face was turned away from them, but her gut told her this was the guy she needed to talk to. She smiled. Without a word, Ginny began weaving her way through the maze of tables towards the bar. Fiona fell in beside her automatically. _

"_Is that him?" she asked._

"_I think so," Ginny said. "Hang back while I speak with him. Make sure no one's followed us."_

_Fiona nodded and veered off to the right before the pair reached the bar. Ginny sat down next to the blond stranger and signaled the barkeep for a butterbeer. __While she waited for her drink, __she took in his appearance. He was short, shorter than she was, and hardly looked a day over seventeen. He wore a green cloak secured at the throat with a clasp in the shape of a white dragon…_

Ginny's eyes popped open, and it took her a moment to remember where she was. Sandy white beaches and chalk white cliffs stretched out before her and she could hear the ocean crashing against the shore not too far away. It was late afternoon; the sun would set in little more than an hour.

She was on the southern coast of England, Dover to be precise, where they had set up camp after flying straight through from Aberdeen. Frozen and exhausted, the pair had hidden behind a clump of boulders about sixty meters from shore, set the concealment charms and fallen immediately asleep.

Fiona's boots came into view, and Ginny twisted her head up to greet her friend, but she beat her to it. She looked well rested, and as chipper as ever.

"Morning, girlie. Sleep alright?"

Ginny sat up while Fiona sat down and began rummaging through their travel bag.

"Yeah, actually. You?"

"Besides getting sand in my hair and boots, yeah."

Fiona found what she was looking for and triumphantly pulled out the sack of fruit and the miniature box with the sandwiches. After selecting two and returning them to normal size they began eating. Ginny was ravenous; it had been almost twenty-four hours since she'd last eaten. Fiona, too, ate with gusto.

Midway through the meal, Fiona spoke up. Ginny, who had been enjoying the silence (and analysing the dream she'd woken from moments before), groaned inwardly. Fiona would want and deserve an explanation.

"So," she said, "care to tell me what I've signed up for?"

Ginny sighed and set her sandwich down on her knee. "You're going to think I'm barmy, and I will understand completely if you want to go back to Hogwarts," she warned.

"In for a Knut, in for a Galleon, my mum always said," Fiona quipped.

Ginny thought for a moment how best to phrase their situation. Given she was speaking with Fiona, she decided blunt was best.

"I've been having visions." Ginny's heart skipped a beat when she realised she'd finally admitted it.

Fiona let out an incredulous laugh, but cut it short when she saw the serious expression on her friend's face. "Shite, you're not kidding, are you?"

Ginny shook her head. "They started our first night back at Hogwarts."

"So that's what's up with the dreams."

"And the middle of the night flying sessions."

"And the broken mirrors."

Ginny grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, those too."

The pair lapsed into silence while Fiona absorbed the new information. Ginny could tell by the stubborn look on her face that she was trying her very best to make sense of everything.

"What do you see?" she asked finally, taking a drink of water.

"A man."

"Someone you know?"

"No. I don't know. Maybe." She sighed. "I think I might, but I never see his face."

"So, why exactly are we going to… wherever it is we're going?"

"France and we're going there to save him."

"Right. A rescue mission for a man you don't know and have no way of recognising." Fiona paused as though considering. "Sounds like fun."

Ginny shook her head sadly. "We're cracked, the both of us. You're sure you don't want to go back?"

"Absolutely," she said. "Besides, I hardly think it wise to avoid my destiny, don't you agree?"

Ginny chuckled before saying, "I'm going to miss Luna."

"Now she definitely would have made this an interesting trip."

"I know you think she's a bit off, but she's almost never wrong. At least we'll be able to contact her if we need to," Ginny said, referring to the silver Sickles in their pockets.

Fiona nodded in agreement and the two girls fell into silence. After finishing their meal, Fiona spoke again.

"So, what's the plan, girlie? I hope you at least didn't run off without one of those."

"As soon as it's dark we'll fly across the Channel. It should only take a couple of hours. When we land in Calais we'll begin searching the wizarding pubs there and then make our way south."

"No offense, but that's a bit vague."

Ginny sighed. "I know, but it's all I've got right now. We have to look for a blond man in a pub somewhere."

Fiona quirked an eyebrow, "And you know this how?"

"Dreamt it just now. Sounds crazy, doesn't it?"

"I reckon I'll get used to it."

"That makes one of us," Ginny said with a snort.

* * *

Friday, 7 November 

For the past six days, Ginny and Fiona had sought out every wizarding establishment they could in hopes of coming across the blond man in the pub. Ginny had described several of the dreams in which Fiona made appearances. She found them terribly amusing, but agreed nonetheless that they could not be anything but visions. This, oddly enough, made Ginny slightly more at ease with the label. If Fiona could believe it, it couldn't really be too far fetched, no?

Ginny truly could not have asked for a better traveling companion than Fiona. She did her best to keep the mood light, and never complained about the lack of progress, even when Ginny was about to yank her own hair out in frustration. Ginny realised now how silly it had been to try to keep Fiona out of her self-appointed mission. She was extremely thankful for the other girl's company, opinions, and overall cheerful disposition. There was not much that could bring Fiona down, and Ginny knew it would surely be a lonely road without her.

Once the girls had landed in Calais, they had searched the three wizarding pubs they tracked down after speaking with a friendly young witch who sketched them a general map of the country. Much to Ginny's chagrin, maps were the one thing she had not packed; the thought had not even occurred to her. She knew of a few places of common repute as well as from conversations with Fleur, but most of France was unknown to the both of them.

After turning up empty handed in Calais, Ginny and Fiona then made their way made their way eastward across the northern tip, stopping in at various wizarding villages and establishments along the way. They planned on continuing in an east-west, west-east manner, zigzagging father southward all the time until the entire nation had been searched. Neither allowed themselves to dwell on the fact that this could very well take longer than they had supplies for but had not been able to devise a more efficient plan, either.

After one whole week in France, Ginny and Fiona found themselves in southern Picardie in a small city called Beaurieux. It was a Muggle town situated on the Aisne river, but they had been assured by the barkeep at The Unicorn's Tail in Charleville-Mézières that there was, in fact, an inn by the name of The Blue Tankard (or la Chope Bleu, as he said) at number Seventy-four la Rue Bas.

It was late, nearing eleven o'clock in the evening, when Ginny and Fiona landed on the outskirts of town near the river. Fortunately, they never needed to spend more than a few minutes in each establishment – just long enough for Ginny to decide whether or not she recognised it or any of its patrons. She knew that he would already be there waiting for her when they reached the right one. This was their third pub of the evening, and likely their last, the flight from Charleville-Mézières having taken longer than anticipated due to an especially nasty headwind.

They followed the Aisne into town where, even for a Friday night, there were amazingly few people about. This was a good thing, too, because two teenaged girls traveling with cloaks and brooms would surely draw attention in the Muggle town. Using the 'Point Me' spell, Ginny and Fiona found la Rue Bas within the hour.

La Rue Bas was aptly named, for it was most certainly a bad part of town. The girls passed a few ladies of questionable repute, and the street itself stunk of refuse. Ginny could hear Fiona beside her, making an extraordinary effort to breath only through her mouth.

Not a moment too soon in Ginny's opinion, while they stood before numbers seventy-three and seventy-five, the air between the disconnected buildings blurred, expanded, and number seventy-four popped into existence. La Chope Bleu, as it were, was also appropriately named. It was round and painted a brilliant cerulean with a white, cone-shaped roof. There was a curved 'C' extending from one side of the building, forming a handle that was blue and white striped and rotated like an old-fashioned barbershop pole. There were several lanterns illuminating the front of the building and golden firelight could be seen glowing through the porthole windows.

Fiona made for the door, but halted when she realised Ginny was not following. The red-head remained on the sidewalk, staring at the pub.

"You alright, there, girlie?"

Ginny shook her head as though to clear it. "What? Yes, of course. Let's do this." She had a strange feeling, like something was about to happen, but she wasn't sure. She hardly dared get her hopes up.

Fiona shot her a questioning glance, but opened the door without another word. She had pretty much accepted that Ginny told her things when she was good and ready.

When Ginny entered the pub, an overwhelming sense of deja-vu stopped her in her tracks. There, across the circular room, was a man sitting at the bar with blond hair and a green cloak. Fiona bumped into her, and Ginny noted with a small amount of detachment that the people at nearby tables were looking at them oddly.

"Sorry," Fiona whispered.

"It's alright," she replied distractedly. "This is just too bizarre."

It was one thing to watch a vision unfold in her sleep; it was utterly different to live it. She began threading her way through the tables, dodging chairs and waitresses.

Fiona fell in at her side. "Is that him?" she said quietly

"I think so," Ginny responded. "Hang back while I speak with him. Make sure no one's followed us."

She had no idea why she said this other than the fact that she had said it in her dream. Not once in the past week had they had any reason to suspect they were being followed or watched, but she decided that it must be important if it was part of her vision.

Fiona nodded and split off to the right, where she sat at a small two-seater table that allowed her to watch Ginny as well as most of the room. Ginny did not hesitate in taking a seat next to the blond stranger.

He was not tall and looked as young as she remembered, but she was mildly disappointed when she saw that she did not know him, even though he did look familiar. Ginny signaled for a butterbeer while she scanned her memories in the back of her head; she had seen him before, she was positive.

"Do you speak English?" she asked.

The stranger turned his head and looked at her sharply. He had round blue eyes, a sharp nose with a dusting of freckles and lips that looked like they were always wanting to smile, no matter the circumstances. While his features were attractive, it was the white dragon-shaped clasp at his throat that caught her attention.

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly when he saw Ginny, which was confusing. Immediately, his shoulders tensed and Ginny made a deliberate showing of placing both hands on the bar top to show she was not a danger.

"Non, desolée," he said curtly.

Ginny frowned. It had never occurred to her how difficult it would be to talk about finding a man whose face she did not know. What would she say to the stranger? Take me to your leader? She couldn't risk him thinking she was completely crackers and telling her to sod off, or, worse, believing her a threat and hexing her into oblivion.

After a minute, she thanked Merlin for that Translation Charm and spoke, "That is a beautiful brooch. Where did you get it?"

He seemed thrown by her flawless French and did not look at her when he answered. "It was a gift from a friend."

Ginny decided to fib her way through the conversation. If he thought she knew more than she did, the stranger might give something away. Luckily, she had enough of the twin's mischievousness to fool all but the most astute of discerners.

"It is a fine piece of craftsmanship. Your friend, he must be generous," she said smoothly.

There was a bit of memory fighting for her attention. She'd paid it little heed before; there had been more important things happening in the dream for her to be paying attention to the blond boy lingering in the doorway of the cabin while she complained to Fiona about how 'Mr. Brilliant had a death wish'. She was not positive of the stranger's identity, but she had a pretty good idea, now.

"How do you know my friend is a man?" he asked, obviously growing more uncomfortable. He nervously spun the blue glass tankard in circles on the bar.

"I know more than you think, Maurice."

Ginny took a sip from her bottle, but her eyes never left the man beside her. The look of surprise on his face would have been comical, except for the fact that he was blatantly reaching for his wand. She had spooked him.

"How did you know my na-"

"I know all about your…" Ginny paused, seemingly for effect, while in actuality she was thinking of something clever and earth shattering with which to end her sentence. She looked again at the brooch. "White Dragons."

Suddenly his demeanour switched from anxious to high alert. In the blink of an eye, he whipped his wand out and pointed it at Ginny's abdomen beneath the bar. She forced her reflexes into submission and kept her hands on the table. She had, it would seem, struck a chord.

"I don't know who you are, witch, but you would do well to keep your voice down," he said menacingly.

Ginny leaned towards him and looked him straight in the eye. A small smile fluttered across her lips as she chose her words. "Take me to your leader."

"What do you take me for?" Maurice asked incredulously.

"Someone who loves their commander enough to follow him to the gates of Hell," she said sharply beneath her breath. "I assure you, I am no threat."

Her words did little to assuage him. "What is so important that you would risk associating yourself with Les Dragons? With your lack of subtlety, it would surely lead to your death," he spat.

"Funny how you're the one with a wand pointed at me in a crowded pub," she hissed, her temper bubbling up to the surface. "If you care anything for your commander, you _will_ take me to him. His very life may well depend on it."

"If you have any intel, tell me now, and it will have reached his ears by dawn."

"No," Ginny said, flat out refusing.

"That's the offer; take it or leave it."

"I will find him whether you help me or not, but I don't know how much time we have left, so it would really be great for all parties involved if you just took me to him," said Ginny through clenched teeth.

"Time left until what?" Maurice asked. She had piqued his interest, now.

"Until the Death Eaters take him," she said, bluntly.

Maurice's face paled considerably, Ginny was pleased to see. Perhaps she was getting through to him. He swallowed hard. "How do you know these things?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Ginny said dryly.

"Show me your left arm – slowly," Maurice demanded.

Ginny did as she was bid, but her eyes never left his. He was nervous, frightened, even, and it was definitely an emotion she could work with. Maurice broke eye contact to look at her unmarked forearm.

"Satisfied?"

"No, but we will let him decide if you are to be trusted." Maurice stood and dropped three Sickles on the bar. "Wait three minutes, and then meet me behind this building." Without another word, he spun on his heel and exited the pub.

An instant later, Fiona dropped onto the stool Maurice had just vacated. "Well, what happened?" she questioned excitedly. "Who was he? Did you learn anything?"

"Slow down, Fi," Ginny replied, slipping back into English. "That was Maurice, he's a bit skeptical, and in three minutes we're going to meet him behind the building so he can take us to his leader."

"Wow," said Fiona, stunned. "These visions are real deal, aren't they?"

"Yes, but I can't decide if it's a good thing or a bad thing." Ginny took a sip of butterbeer before offering the bottle to Fiona. "You can finish it. Did you notice anything suspicious?"

Fiona shrugged, taking the bottle. "Right when he left a tall woman with black hair exited through the back door over there," she said, gesturing over her shoulder with a thumb.

Ginny turned anxiously toward her friend. "Fiona, what _exactly_ did she look like?"

"She was really tall, guy tall, and her hair was down to about her waist. I couldn't get a good look at her face, but she had really pale skin," Fiona said. "Why?"

"Adrienne," Ginny murmured under her breath. She had seen that woman in her dreams enough times to recognise her description with ease.

"Huh?"

Ginny cleared her throat. "Her name is Adrienne. She's not to be trifled with." Furrowing her brow, she stood and dropped a Sickle and three Knuts onto the bar before grabbing Fiona's wrist and dragging her from the premises.

"Oi! What are you doing?"

Ginny did not stop until they crossed the street and were hidden in the alcove of a small, run-down boulangerie.

"What's going on, girlie?"

"They're going to ambush as soon as we go back there. They'll bind us and put hoods over our heads, but they are going to take us to him."

"Let me get this straight," Fiona said incredulously. "You know they're going to attack us, but you still want us to go back there. That's stupid. What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not, Fi, I promise," Ginny plead, grabbing her friend by both shoulders. "I really need you to trust me right now. I know it's asking a lot but, please, can you just one more time?"

"Fine," Fiona huffed, "but for the record, I am _not_ pleased with this at all."

"Dually noted. Put your wand in your boot; they might not check there."

"Everything's going to be fine, but hide your wand, just in case. That's so terribly reassuring," Fiona remarked sarcastically.

Ginny rolled her eyes and stuffed her wand down into her knee high flying boots. "Don't, then. Let them take it."

Fiona hid her wand nonetheless and the pair set off across the street once more. Both were more scared than either would ever admit, but neither objected when Ginny's left hand somehow found Fiona's right. Nor was a word exchanged as their grip tightened when they entered the shadows between number seventy-four and number seventy-five. The girls walked cautiously, even though Maurice and Adrienne already knew they were coming.

When they finally rounded the back of the building, Maurice was leaning against it directly beneath a small round window looking much more at ease than he had three minutes ago. He was twirling his wand in his fingers, looking terribly bored, but he wasn't fooling Ginny. She had unnerved him and he still did not know what to make of her.

With a bit more courage than she felt she truly possessed Ginny said, "You can come out, Adrienne, I know you're there." Beside her, Fiona gulped.

A pale face emerged from around the other side of the building, following an equally white hand which held her wand pointed straight at Ginny. She stood next to Maurice, who had by this point pushed off the wall and was standing and facing them. Ginny's fingers itched for her wand, but settled for squeezing Fiona's hand that much harder.

Before Ginny or Fiona had time to react, two more shadows appeared behind them.

"_Incarcerous!"_ the two men shouted.

Gasping, both girls toppled to the ground, bound hand and foot. Adrienne smirked and conjured two burlap hoods. Fiona squirmed against her bonds.

"Was that really necessary?" Ginny asked.

"Take their brooms and their wands," Adrienne ordered in French. Kneeling between the two girls she put one hood, first, over Fiona's head.

The two thugs who had appeared behind them removed their brooms, as well as Ginny's bag, but could not find their wands.

"You _so_ owe me for this, girlie."

"Yeah, yeah," said Ginny. "I told you to stay home."

Adrienne looked as though she was about to say something to Ginny, but thought better of it. Instead she put the second sack over her head, and everything went black. Ginny grunted as a booted foot kicked her over onto her stomach. Something small and metal was shoved into the palm of her hand, and in the blink of an eye, there was a sharp tug at her navel and she was flying through space.

Ginny landed heavily, despite the ground beneath her being covered with a thick layer of pine needles. The wind was knocked out of her, and her cheek hurt where it collided with the frozen ground. There was a thump followed shortly by a moan somewhere to Ginny's left.

"You alright, Fi?"

"Fan-fucking-tastic. Remind me to send Adrienne a thank-you card for the wonderful traveling arrangements," she said sarcastically. "I think I dislocated my shoulder."

Promptly, there were four more soft thumps as their kidnappers joined them. Adrienne's voice cut Fiona's griping short. "Release their feet," she ordered. "They can walk."

The ropes around Ginny's ankles disappeared and a rough hand hauled her to her feet by her arm. He pushed her forward and she only just managed to keep her footing, which was rather impressive considering she had no arms to aid her balance. Ginny winced at Fiona's sharp cry of obvious pain.

"Get _off_ of me, you great bloody oaf!" she said in English. My sodding shoulder – "

"Fiona – "

"Hold her still," Adrienne commanded.

There was a moment of silence followed by the most sickening _pop_ Ginny had ever heard. Fiona screamed.

"You are _so_ lucky my wand's not in my hand, you miserable wench," Fiona said through clenched teeth. Ginny felt sick to her stomach for her friend.

Adrienne replied in English. "I'm sure you're most terrifying. Now, shut up.

"Gaston, Jacques, bring them inside," she said, reverting back to French. "Maurice, take care of their effects."

Ginny was once more prodded forward, and, judging by the string of curses that would have made Molly Weasley faint dead away, Fiona was receiving similar treatment. Had it not been for the fact that she was bound and blinded, Ginny might have found her friend's colourful use of the English language amusing; Fiona had such a cheerful temperament and was rarely ever angry enough to swear more than once, but she was most definitely downright _pissed_ at Adrienne and whichever one, Jacques or Gaston, was guiding her none too gently.

The rough hand was on her arm once more, helping her walk up a short flight of wooden steps, then across a porch and through a door. She walked straight down what was no doubt a hallway considering she had yet to run into a wall. Fiona was now next to her, but was slightly more off balance without the use of her arms than Ginny was, and she kept bumping into her.

"Sorry, Ginny," she whispered. "I can't really see anything."

"It's alright, I can't either," she replied. "Are you ok?"

Ginny winced as her escort dug his fingers painfully into the soft spot between her neck and shoulder; effectively bring her to a halt.

"You rotten idiot," Fiona growled next to her. "What part of my shriek of pain did you not comprehend?"

Ginny sensed an arm move past her head, and her breath caught in her chest when she heard three sharp knocks on the door they'd obviously stopped in front of.

"Fi, this is it," she whispered quickly. "He's on the other side of this door."

"Entrez," said a muffled voice from behind the door.

"Merlin, help us," Fiona muttered. "This better have been worth it."

The terror that ripped through Ginny's chest left her dizzy. She suddenly and most certainly did not want to know who he was. But it was too late, and she knew it. She had chosen her path, her destiny, and it was about to kick her in the face.

The door swung open without a sound, and Ginny and Fiona were both unceremoniously shoved through the portal, only to be jerked to a stop once more. The burlap hoods were yanked from their heads and they both stood in the middle of some sort of office blinking furiously in an attempt to speed the readjustment of their eyes to the light.

By the time Ginny's vision had cleared, Adrienne was slipping in behind them. She shut the door, and stood off to the right of the large desk Ginny and Fiona were situated in front of. Her wand was still in her hand; she was prepared for anything.

Ginny stole a glance at Fiona. She was covered in dirt and pine needles, her hair was a mess and her face was flushed with anger. It was safe to say she was not a happy camper.

When the chair behind the desk began to spin around, time seemed to slow. Ginny could hear her heart beating in her ears, and she had to fight the urge to squeeze her eyes shut tight. The anticipation was almost painful. Finally he was facing them. He set a stack of parchments down on the desk and looked up at them.

Ginny's stomach fell into her knees. The world was ending, she just knew it. She remembered being angry at this point in her dream, but she just couldn't muster the enthusiasm necessary.

"I think I might be sick," she said, instead.

"Weasley?"

It was Draco Malfoy.


	6. First Impressions

**A/N: Many, many thanks to Lyr942 for her wonderful beta work and for sharing her opinions with me. She makes all of this readable. You should go read her fic.**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, as well. Chapter five was received much more enthusiastically than the other four combined. I hope you enjoy chapter six. It's a lot of dialogue, but I think you'll find it at least a little entertaining. Well, that's enough from me. On with it!**

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**First Impressions**

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Friday 7 – Saturday 8, November

* * *

"Weasley?" Draco said, not bothering to hide his shock. 

Ginny really did think she was going to be sick.

"Who's your friend?"

"Shepherd," Fiona spat out hostilely.

Draco seemed genuinely confused by their presence. He rubbed the back of his neck absently. "I was expecting Parkinson and Greengrass, or maybe Bulstrode. Are you sure these were the girls?" he asked Adrienne.

She nodded and said in English, "Oui. They have been snooping around for almost a week now."

So they had been followed.

"This can't be right," Ginny said under her breath. She was _not_ standing in front of Draco Malfoy acting out a dream she'd had two months ago. Nope.

"What are you two doing here?" Draco asked seriously.

Now Ginny was becoming angry. Not with Draco, but with Fate for doing this to her, and with herself for not figuring it out sooner. The image of Harry's completely heart-broken face flashed across her mind. Of course, there would only be one person with whom she could betray him that would cause such pain. But she hated Draco, the pointy, arrogant git. She still had her free will, right? She could still leave and never look back, yes?

But was she willing to potentially alter not just her future but everyone else's because she thought Draco was a spoiled, conceited brat? Could she leave him to be tortured by Death Eaters simply because he'd insulted her and her family for years? Damn her noble conscience!

Ginny turned her face towards the heavens and gestured helplessly with her hands as though begging for the Fates to explain themselves. Draco Malfoy was a bit over the top, in her opinion. Screaming profanities seemed like a satisfying course of action, but Ginny decided that doing so at the ceiling would earn her no confidence from Draco or any of those who followed him.

"I don't see how that's any of your bloody business," Ginny ground out, swallowing her nonsensical tirade.

Well, that was a bold-faced lie. It was all his business, but he didn't need to know that, yet. There was a time and a place for everything, and now was neither. Ginny was completely unprepared for _that _conversation. All she had to do was hope that Maurice didn't show up and ruin everything by repeating what she'd told him in the pub.

"And I'll kindly thank you to unbind us." She wriggled her arms to emphasize the point.

"Temper, temper, Weasley. You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

Ginny remained silent, biting back the hundred snide remarks that leapt to the tip of her tongue. He looked mildly amused, which only added fuel her now blazing fire. After a moment, he gave a slight nod to the men behind her and Fiona and an instant later her bonds disappeared. Adrienne held her wand that much tighter.

"Fancy meeting you here," Fiona interjected, rubbing her left shoulder. It was more than likely the one that had been dislocated five minutes ago. "And here we were happily thinking you were dead when really you've just been lurking about, waiting to kidnap unsuspecting travelers. And I want my bloody broom back."

"This is so not okay," Ginny said, rubbing her eyes as if to attempt to wake herself up from a nightmare.

Draco shook his head. "She's a feisty one, isn't she?" he said to Ginny.

"Don't talk about Fiona like she's not in the same room, you git." Ye Gods, she was saying the words before she could stop them from escaping. Damn her uncontrollable tongue, as well!

"Well, Ginny," Fiona said, interrupting whatever response Draco might have had. "Do you recognize any of this, or should we be on our way? We've wasted enough of our time on him as it is."

"I think I need to sit down," Ginny replied weakly. She swayed unsteadily on her feet; the whole evening was just too overwhelming. She really wasn't handling it well at all.

Without thinking, Fiona pulled her wand out of her boot to conjure Ginny a chair. Adrienne reacted reflexively, as did Ginny, and in an instant their wands were pointed at each other. Draco was watching the happenings with curiosity; she didn't know what Jacques and Gaston were doing behind her, but she didn't really care at this point.

"I really would not suggest that, if I were you," she said to Adrienne. Ginny noticed that the other woman's eyes were, in fact, amethyst. They were hard and unyielding, but Ginny held her ground. The dark-haired woman had been prepared to hex Fiona in the back.

"And I think you'll find that you are sorely outnumbered," Adrienne responded.

"That's not going to stop me from protecting my friends. I told Maurice, and I'll tell you now, we are _not_ a threat."

"How about everyone lower their wands, hm? I rather like my walls the way they are," Draco said. No one budged. "Adrienne," he barked, "put it down. They're not going to hurt anyone, _are they_?"

"No," Ginny said finally, "we're not."

Fiona shook her head.

Wands were lowered simultaneously, albeit grudgingly, and Fiona went ahead and conjured that chair before stuffing her wand back into her boot. It wasn't her best work, due to the stressful circumstances, and Charms had never been her best subject, but it was functional. Ginny plopped down ungracefully, set her elbows on her knees and hung her head in her hands. She was still pissed, but she was also confused, more than a little distraught, and exhausted to boot.

Fiona, ignoring everyone else in the room, crouched next to Ginny's chair. "You all right, girlie?" she whispered so the others wouldn't hear.

"This is so, so very wrong," she said quietly.

Fiona made that worried expression, the one where she furrowed her brow and quirked her lips to one side. "I don't understand. I thought you said this was it."

"I did, and it is, but that's why it's wrong," Ginny whispered as she shook her head. "I recognize everything here: the room, the conversation, even that little paperweight with the enchanted dragon on the desk."

_Well, that should have been a clue,_ she thought bitterly.

Fiona looked at the desk, then back at Ginny. "And?"

"And now I know why I never saw his face."

Fiona's hazel eyes grew to the size of Galleons as she jerked her head back and forth between Ginny and Draco. "You mean _him_?"

"Unfortunately."

"Bloody hell."

"My sentiments exactly."

"I know I'm a stunning example of the male species, but could you save the girl talk for later?" Draco remarked with a smirk. "Business first."

"I see you're still as arrogant and conceited as you were in school," snapped Ginny as she shot him a glare.

"Don't forget pointy," added Fiona.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

"Entrez," Draco said.

The door opened at once, and in slipped Maurice. He closed the door softly behind him before bowing his head to Draco. Draco returned the gesture. Maurice threw Ginny a wary glance, let his gaze linger on Fiona for just a moment and then turned his attention back to Draco.

"Report," Draco ordered.

Ginny's stomach went from her knees to her boots. It was a good thing she was already seated. There was definitely no way she was going to get out of this without some sort of explanation now.

"The red-head approached me at The Blue Tankard in Beaurieux," Maurice said in French. "She knew my name, she claimed to know about Les Dragons, demanded I take her to you, and then said that Death Eaters were planning on kidnapping you."

"She also knew my name without it having been given to her," added Adrienne. She was looking at Ginny with something close to disdain. Ginny scowled at her.

Draco was scowling, too. "Is this true, Weasley?" he asked.

"Which part?" she replied evasively.

"How did you know his name?"

"Luck."

"And Adrienne's?"

"I should take up gambling."

"What do you know about Les Dragons?" he demanded. Her short answers were annoying him.

"Nothing. I made that up."

"What do you know about Death Eater plans? _Why_ do you know about Death Eater plans?"

Ginny shrugged. "Psychic, I guess."

Fiona snorted.

Draco looked at Maurice. "She doesn't have the Mark," he said to Draco's unasked question.

"What about the other one?" he asked, referring to Fiona.

Fiona jerked up her sleeve angrily, thoroughly insulted at the insinuation that either she or Ginny might be followers of Voldemort. "We're not Death Eaters, which should have been rather obvious considering we're not _Slytherins_," she shot at Draco. He glared at her comment, not missing the personal attack implied.

"If we were Death Eaters, why would we be here looking for you, of all people? Why not Harry? I'm his ex-girlfriend, Ron's sister, and I might as well be Hermione's-"

"So you _did_ come here looking for me."

Ginny glared at him, refusing to open her mouth. Damn her traitorous tongue!

"Interesting," he mused, rubbing his jaw with his hand.

Ginny continued to glare. Everyone in the room was watching their exchange intently. Even Fiona seemed intrigued by the conversation, and she knew a good deal more than anyone else present with the exception of Ginny, who was holding almost all of the cards.

"So, Weasley, tell me about this scheme to kidnap me," Draco said calmly.

"What do you want to know?" she asked. In truth she didn't know much at all but for the fact that it was going to happen at some point in the near future.

"Everything you do, of course."

Ginny closed her eyes and recalled that particular vision. She skipped the first part. There was no need to go _there_, and her stomach had taken just about all it could handle for one night, thanks very much. She chose her words with care, not wanting to sound like she was reciting a dream, but more like she'd overheard bits of a conversation.

"They plan on attacking some cabin and taking you during the confusion."

Draco sat up straighter. "What cabin?"

"I don't know," Ginny said, truthfully, with a shrug. "It's in a wooded clearing, here in France, I'm assuming."

Adrienne and Maurice were now standing at greater attention, hanging on every word Ginny said. She heard Gaston and Jacques shift behind her.

"What?" she asked. Their stares were making her uncomfortable.

"Then what?" Draco asked, ignoring her question completely.

"A castle in the mountains. Torture," Ginny said slowly. She swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat. She could still hear his screams in her head.

"When?" Draco demanded.

Ginny shrugged, and tried to recall if there was any indication in the vision as to when the attack would occur. "After it snows."

"After it snows?" Adrienne spat incredulously. "This is France, and it's winter. It could snow tonight!" She turned to Draco and said, "Please, Draco, do not trust them. They may not bear the Dark Mark, but it would be foolish to do so."

Ginny was about to protest Adrienne's accusations, but Draco interrupted.

"Do you know what it is _specifically_ that they want?" he asked. Ginny thought she heard a thread of anxiety laced into his aristocratic drawl.

"How should I know? To satisfy their sadistic urges? Other than being a colossal failure, I can't imagine what you've done to piss them off so badly."

Draco smirked. "You have no idea."

Ginny was confused, and so was Fiona. She was about to ask what he meant, but he cut her off.

"I really need you to tell me where you got this information."

"I really need you to trust me," Ginny returned.

Draco stood and began pacing. It was so odd to see him agitated enough to do so. Ginny's news had at least had some effect on him.

"I don't think you understand the position I'm in, Weasley," he said.

"And _I_ don't think _you_ understand the position _I'm_ in, Malfoy." Draco looked at her oddly, no doubt thinking that he understood her situation fairly well. "What I know could help a lot of people or it could royally fuck things up, and I'm trying really, really hard to do the right thing, so, please, trust me. Even if it's just this once and you never do it again. Trust. Me."

"You're not going to tell me anything, are you?"

Ginny shook her head determinedly. What was she supposed to tell him? I've been dreaming about you for two months, only I didn't know it was you and I'm the only one who can save you? He'd laugh at her, and that would definitely be counterproductive.

With a tired sigh, Draco sat back down. "Jacques, Gaston, you may go back to your posts. Thank you for your help tonight." The two large men exited the room. "Maurice, bring our guests to the spare bedroom on the southeast corridor and make the arrangements for them to return to England tomorrow."

Ginny and Fiona were both about to object, but he cut them off. "I don't understand why you came here, but I don't think there's any purpose to be served by you staying. We'll get you back to Calais; I trust you can make it back to Hogwarts on your own."

"We're not going back," Ginny said.

"Goodnight, Weasley."

It took every ounce of willpower Ginny possessed to not call Draco something nasty. Instead she growled in frustration and followed Maurice out into the hallway. Fiona rushed to follow. The brunette had been uncharacteristically silent while Draco and Ginny had argued.

The two walked behind Maurice in brooding silence. Ginny could not decide if her first meeting with the mysterious man from her dreams had gone well or if it had been a spectacular disaster. Fiona was trying to fill in the gaps in her knowledge with what she'd heard revealed in Draco's office.

Maurice opened a random door and stepped aside to let Ginny enter. "How's your shoulder?" he asked, stopping Fiona mid-step.

"It bloody well hurts, no thanks to you," Fiona snapped.

Maurice winced, but dug a small glass phial from his pants' pocket. Fiona eyed it warily, as though it might jump up and bite her. "It's a pain reliever. Take it."

Confused by the boy's kindness, Fiona slowly took the bottle from his outstretched hand. "Thank you."

Maurice looked incredibly awkward for a moment before walking brusquely in the direction from which they'd come. Fiona shut the door, staring at the dark green potion the entire time.

The bedroom was furnished with two twin sized beds, a desk that doubled as a vanity with a mirror and there was a small lavatory in the back corner of the room. It was just big enough to hold the toilet, a sink and a stand up shower stall. Ginny was pleased to note that their belongings had already been placed in their room on the beds. At least Draco's lot weren't a bunch of thieves.

Fiona tossed Ginny the phial. "You think it's poison?"

Ginny caught it easily and snorted. "I seriously doubt our dear friend, Maurice, would want you dead," she said knowingly. Fiona looked supremely confused, so Ginny continued before she asked what she meant. "If they'd wanted either one of us dead, they have already had plenty of opportunity," she said. But to appease her friend, she uncorked the bottle and sniffed it. "It smells like a pain reliever."

Ginny resealed the bottle and tossed it back to Fiona, who sighed with relief. "Thank Merlin," she said. "It feels like I've tacks jabbing into my bones."

The girls sat tiredly side by side at the foot of one of the beds. Fiona took a small sip of the pain relieving potion and tossed the bottle behind her onto the bed. Ginny was staring blankly at the wall.

"How much of what you said in there was the truth?" Fiona asked.

"All of the important parts."

"Kidnap and torture, eh?"

Ginny nodded. "Do you remember last week when you woke up and I was on the floor?"

"Yeah."

"I could hear his screams in my head the rest of the day."

"Merlin," Fiona breathed. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," Ginny answered, shaking her head. "But going back to Hogwarts isn't the answer, at least not for me. You can go back if you like, but I have to stay. I have to see this to the end."

"No, you don't," Fiona argued. "You've told him about the attack, and about the castle in the mountains – what more is there for you to do?"

"I made a promise."

"To whom?" Fiona exclaimed loudly.

"To Malfoy."

"Really? Because I certainly didn't hear anything at all to that effect."

"I promised him that we'd end it together, and I don't intend to break my word, Fi."

"End _what_? You're not making any sense, girlie."

"Whatever it is that Malfoy and his White Dragons have gotten themselves into – I promised him I'd be there."

"So, you're basing your decision on a promise you haven't made yet to a person you hate?"

"I'm not going to hate him forever, Fiona," Ginny said softly.

Fiona grew quiet. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ginny didn't answer. Ginny didn't want to answer. Ginny wasn't ready to deal with the consequences of that answer. It was bad enough that she'd thought it.

"This is insane."

"I told you to stay home."

"I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?"

"Nope."

Fiona sighed. "Well, we might as well unpack, then."

* * *

Ginny wanted to sleep, she really did. She was exhausted, and this was her first night in a bed since leaving Hogwarts, so she should have been dead to the world but she was wide awake. Fiona had dozed off hours ago, leaving Ginny to toss and turn and stare at the ceiling. She just couldn't get Draco out of her head. Now that she knew who she'd been dreaming about all those weeks, her brain wanted to replay every single one with his face added.

The one she saw the most was the one with Harry. She knew that her decision to stay in France with Draco put her relationship with Harry in serious jeopardy; she knew that Ron would kill her for it, but she also knew that she was _supposed_ to be there, not at home. In France she had the opportunity to make a difference, she didn't know how yet, but she would.

Ginny was also trying to figure out how she was going to convince Draco to let them stay. He seemed wholly uninterested in having her there but, short of telling him the complete and unabridged truth, she saw no way to go about it.

By the colour of the light outside, Ginny judged it to be approximately five o'clock in the morning. Fiona rolled over and began snoring loudly, disturbing the pre-dawn silence. With a sigh, Ginny threw off the blankets, pulled her wand from beneath her pillow and left the room to seek out Draco.

She lit her wand and began walking back to the office. Ginny could only hope he was there, as unlikely as that was considering the hour, and not in one of the house's other bedrooms. She'd never find him were that the case.

Upon reaching the correct door, Ginny heaved a great sigh of relief when she saw light shining into the hallway from beneath it. She _noxed_ her wand and knocked on the door. There was a longish pause, and Ginny was just about to knock again, when the door opened halfway. Draco leaned against the jamb and began rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Weasley? What are you doing here?"

Ginny froze. She hadn't actually come to any conclusions about what she wanted to say. Again, she settled for the most straightforward approach.

"We're not going back."

"Really? Because there are about twenty people here who will be more than happy to drag you all the way back to Hogwarts if I ask them."

"We'll just come straight back. We found you once, we can do it again."

Draco sighed tiredly and walked back to his desk. Ginny took the open door as an invitation to join him, so she did, closing it behind her. The chair Fiona had conjured hours earlier was gone, so Ginny produced another. Only hers looked much better and was no doubt going to be far more comfortable. She curled up in the armchair and stuffed her wand through her bun.

"I admire your tenacity, I really do, but you don't even know where you are," Draco said. "You could fly over France for a whole year and never find us."

"I'm a clever girl. I'll figure something out," Ginny said stubbornly.

"You're a pain in my arse, is what you are."

Ginny scowled. "That's not what you'll be saying when the Death Eaters get you."

Draco snorted. "I don't know how much news from abroad you get in England, but the Death Eaters have been out for my blood for a long time."

"Not much," Ginny admitted, "but I'm still not going back."

"What's the point in staying here?" Draco said sharply. "You think the war's going poorly in England? You have no idea how good you have it, Weasley. In France, pureblood mania is the sentimentality of the majority, not the few."

"And that's not you anymore?"

Draco smirked, but said nothing.

"If it's not then it sounds like you could use the help. I think I'll stick around."

"Have you heard a single word I've said?"

"Have _you_ heard a word _I've_ said?" Ginny said. "I'm. Not. Leaving."

Draco scrubbed his face with his hands, and, for the first time, Ginny looked at him, _really_ looked at him. He was slim with long arms and fingers, but he wasn't lanky like Ron. He carried himself with confidence, but he did not seem nearly as haughty as Ginny remembered. There was something quieter about his demeanour, but Ginny could not quite put her finger on it.

His face wasn't much different. His cheekbones were perhaps a bit more defined, his jaw a little stronger, lips a little fuller, but his nose was just as sharp. It was his eyes that caught her attention, however. They were grey, but the word hardly did them justice. His eyes looked like every shade of the drab colour swirled together and mixed with flecks of silver. They were lambent, alive and intense, and Ginny found she did not mind holding his gaze at all.

But Draco was tired. His face was a testament to many, many sleepless nights and just as many stressful days. Ginny could sympathize.

"You're impossible," Draco said.

"So I've been told," Ginny replied. They fell silent for a moment. "You don't trust me, do you?"

"You haven't given me much of a reason to," he returned. "Your family hates mine as much as mine hates yours. You know things you shouldn't, impossible things, and you won't say why or how."

"I'm not my family and you're not yours – at least not from what I can tell," Ginny said. "What can I do to convince you to trust me?"

"Give me the name of your informant." Ginny shook her head. Draco leaned forward across the desk. "Maurice and Adrienne, they're in deep. There are people within this very organization who don't know their names, and you say you had a couple of lucky guesses. I'm not buying it."

"Believe me, Malfoy, when I say that you are _not_ ready for that answer. Hell, I don't even know how _I_ feel about it yet."

Draco leaned back in his seat again and scowled. "You're not doing a very good job right now."

"Look," Ginny snapped, "all I know is that I was supposed to find the man the Death Eaters are going to abduct and help him in any way I could. I was just as surprised to see you sitting on the other side of that desk as you were to see me standing in front of it."

"I thought you said you were looking for me," Draco said.

"I was looking for _someone_. I didn't know that someone was you."

"You're not making any sense. How were you planning on finding me if you didn't know it was me you were looking for? For that matter, how do you know it _is_ me that you're looking for?"

"Because I just do, and I guess I got lucky."

"You seem to be doing that a lot."

Ginny shrugged.

"Why are you here?" Draco asked again. "Do you work for the Order?"

"I could ask you the very same question, and no. I do not work for the Order. Mum would have an aneurysm."

"But she's okay with you being here?"

Ginny snorted. "No one knows I've even left the country besides Luna."

"As in Looney Lovegood?"

"Don't call her that," Ginny said. "And stop changing the subject."

"Fine," said Draco. "You can't stay."

"Why?" Ginny demanded. And he said _she_ was impossible. Git.

"Why do you want to be here so badly?" Draco almost shouted. She was wearing his patience thin.

"Because I _promised_ I'd stay until the end! I keep my promises!"

The silence that followed Ginny's declaration was deafening. Ginny cursed her evil tongue and prayed to Merlin that Draco wouldn't ask her any questions about that ridiculous statement. She couldn't rightly believe she'd let that slip.

Draco did not take his eyes off of Ginny the entire time. He studied her face intently, as though it would provide him with some answers. She knew she was making things harder than they had to be, but Draco wasn't giving her much to work with, either. She must have sounded like a raving lunatic to his ears.

Finally, Draco said, "You've got to give me something more, some act of good faith, because you're not making any sense, and I don't like things that don't make sense. I like order; I like things I can understand, and you are neither."

"Malfoy, I'm _here_ on good faith," Ginny said. "I could be expelled for leaving school like I did. I could go to Azkaban for helping you. I could _die_ here. How much more good faith do you need?"

"All of those reasons sound like excellent reasons for you to go back before it's too late," said Draco.

"Perhaps, but-"

"But you promised."

"Exactly."

"To whom?"

"You don't want to know that, either."

"Weasley-"

"I promise you won't regret this."

"I think I already am."


	7. Introductions

_A/N: Finally, chapter seven. I hope you all like it. Many, many thanks to Lyr942, who finds time to clean up my rubbish even though her life is beyond hectic. _

_-hugs-_

* * *

**Introductions**

Saturday, 8 November

When Ginny awoke, it was nearing ten o'clock in the morning and she could only assume that Draco had kept his word and allowed her and Fiona to remain. The discussion she'd had with Draco had been successful in that she was still in France, but she had not learned anything about Draco or those who so obviously followed him. Not that she'd really thought to ask, but he hadn't let slip even one tiny bit of information, which left Ginny with only her dreams and deductive reasoning to figure things out. She did, however, vow to get some information within the next couple of days.

Fiona was absent but Ginny didn't mind. She wanted a good, hot shower before she went searching for either her friend or for Draco. She ate an apple while she dressed, choosing a pair of jeans, a navy blue jumper with a white oxford underneath and her brown boots. After drying her hair with her wand, Ginny set out to find Fiona.

She had completed her search of the ground level and was debating whether to go upstairs or down into the basement she'd found when Adrienne happened upon her. Ginny only had a moment to contemplate how quietly the other woman moved before she was pinned roughly against the wall by her jumper. She winced as her head made contact with the wall and her hands reflexively grasped Adrienne's wrists.

"I don't know what you said to convince Draco to let you stay but I still don't trust you and, unfortunately for you and your outspoken friend, I am very much the more dangerous," Adrienne snarled in English. "I will be watching you, Cherie."

Ginny's temper surged. Forcefully, she removed Adrienne's hands from her person and shoved her against the wall opposite. Her hand balled into fists by her side. "Listen to me, _Cherie, _I have six older brothers, so if you think for one instant that I am afraid of or intimidated by you then you are severely mistaken. I am quite capable of taking care of myself."

Adrienne scoffed. "You were subdued easily enough last night."

"You were _allowed_ to subdue me. I knew what you were planning from the moment Fiona said she saw you sneaking out the backdoor." Ginny was momentarily rewarded by the look of utter disbelief warring with mild embarrassment on Adrienne's face. But it did not last for long.

"You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, girl. Go home to your safe school and your warm bed, and forget you ever came here. You're not wanted."

"I may not be wanted," Ginny ground out, "but I _am_ needed, and one far outweighs the other."

"You speak in riddles," Adrienne spat. "There is nothing you can say or do that will make me trust you."

"That's too bad, really. I'm a good friend to have on your side."

Before Adrienne could get the last word, Ginny turned and stalked off down the hall. She ended up in the foyer and decided she would go outside and cool off before finding Fiona. It wasn't her friend's fault that Adrienne was hateful bint and Ginny was sure she'd explode at the next person who spoke to her.

Ginny was so angry that she did not notice Fiona and Maurice sitting on the edge of the porch as she stormed down the stairs and began pacing back and forth across the small clearing in front of the house. It was cold out, but not so much that she needed a cloak or jacket, and the crisp air did wonders for her temper. She supposed she could understand Adrienne's misgivings; she was obviously very devoted to Draco. But that still did not excuse Adrienne's rude behaviour.

"All right, there, girlie?"

Ginny jumped with a start and stopped pacing. "Huh?"

"Someone's put your knickers in a twist," Fiona said, with a laugh.

"Oh, right," Ginny said, dumbly. "I just had a chat with Adrienne."

"Adrienne?" questioned Maurice, his boyish face quite serious. "Qu'a-t-elle dit?"

Ginny was confused for a moment before she realised that she had forgotten to recast the Translation Charm. Pulling her wand from up her sleeve, she muttered the words,"_Translatio Francia."_ under her breath. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"What did she say?" Maurice repeated.

Ginny opened her mouth to respond but paused when she finally looked at the cabin she'd exited just a minute earlier. It was the cabin in her dreams. Turning a quick three-sixty on her heel, Ginny was not at all surprised to realise the clearing she was in had been the setting for many of her dreams, including the one in which Draco was abducted.

"Oh, you know, the whole 'I don't trust you and never will' bit."

"Please, don't take it personally," Maurice pled. "Adrienne doesn't trust many people. She will do whatever it takes to protect those she loves."

"I understand," Ginny said, rubbing her chest where Adrienne had pushed her, "I really do. I just wish she'd leave out the part where she accosts my person."

Fiona laughed lightly and Ginny did not miss the surreptitious glance Maurice threw her way. He was also sitting a little closer than was strictly necessary, which was so cute it made the rest of Ginny's foul temper vanish. The boy was clearly smitten. She wondered if Fiona had a clue.

Smiling, Ginny crossed to Maurice and extended her hand. "Ginny Weasley," she said, "Nice to meet you – properly."

He took her offered hand in his own and shook it. "Maurice Durant. Enchanté."

Ginny sat down on the other side of Fiona who began swinging her legs. The silence was a little awkward but Ginny was having trouble thinking of something to talk about that would not start an argument or inevitably lead to a subject she did not want to discuss. She was unsure of what she could ask him, and because he seemed a bit shy, Ginny did not want to scare him off.

"Maurice and I were talking about England," Fiona piped up. "He's never been."

"Really?" Ginny said, grateful for the neutral conversation, "and what have you learned?"

"That the Hollyhead Harpies are the best Quidditch team in all of England," he said with a grin. "That the Thames really does stink and that Madam Rosmerta serves the best butterbeer in the world."

Ginny laughed and Fiona blushed. "Well, I see you've covered the most important parts of our fair homeland."

"It sounds silly when you put it like that," Fiona said. "He's conveniently left out the fact that he was asking the questions."

"Of course he was."

Fiona rolled her eyes and turned to Maurice. "Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

"Any rumours you'd rather be disillusioned of?"

He was quiet for a moment while he considered. Ginny could honestly say that she had not expected what he finally asked. "Is it true that your prison is guarded by Dementors?"

"They used to," replied Fiona, solemnly.

"Why don't they anymore?" Maurice said, confused by Fiona's shift in demeanour.

"Because they went back to Voldemort," Ginny supplied.

Maurice, too, became serious at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "Draco spoke of him, in the beginning, but no-one listened, so he stopped."

Ginny was frowning now. "What do you mean, no-one listened? How can you take Death Eaters seriously and not Voldemort? They _serve_ him. One does not exist without the other."

"I know that," Maurice replied, tersely. "Draco has never lied to me before; I do not doubt he speaks the truth about the Dark Lord. But there are not many others who are willing to hear it."

"But _why_?" Ginny said, emphatically. England had been slow to accept the truth to begin with but that really had more to do with Fudge's insecurities than anything else. Once the proof was revealed, Voldemort's return became rather a universally accepted fact. He was back; that's all there was to it.

"Because," Maurice began, "Voldemort has never been to France; most of us do not view him as a real threat. He's intangible; the English Death Eaters he sends to accomplish what the government does not have time to do, and act as liaisons between our Minister and himself, are."

"Your Minister is a Death Eater?" Fiona said, rather loudly.

Ginny agreed wholeheartedly. Fudge had been a right old idiot, and Scrimgeour was a political nightmare, but no-one would have ever suggested that they were followers of Voldemort. She wasn't so naïve as to believe that no Ministry officials supported the Dark Lord, but certainly not the Minister.

Maurice nodded. "Almost everyone in our Ministry is a Death Eater," he said, grimly, "and those who are not still share sympathies and ideologies. You can't even work at the Ministry without the proper blood status."

Draco hadn't been kidding when he said that pure-blood mania was the sentimentality of the masses. Ginny shivered. There was a whole other side to the war, one that had perhaps been in existence before there was even a war, and no-one in England knew about it. And if they did, they weren't doing anything about it, which was worse in her opinion. There was so much that Ginny did not understand about the new world she had entered but she didn't know where to begin asking, either.

That didn't stop Fiona. "So what are you doing out here in the woods?" she asked Maurice.

"Hiding. Fighting back, when we have the chance," he said. "What are _you_ doing out here in the woods?"

Fiona shrugged. "Don't look at me. I'm just along for the ride."

Maurice looked to Ginny. "It's true," she said. "She wouldn't let me leave without her. Stubborn as a mule, she is."

"I think it's one of my finer qualities, thank you."

Ginny and Fiona continued bantering as they usually did, but Maurice seemed incredulous.

"You were going to come here alone without knowing anything about the country or what you'd be dealing with when you got here? That's suicide. Especially in France."

Ginny shrugged it off. "Just got lucky, I guess." Maurice was beating awfully close to the one bush Ginny didn't want beaten.

"You seem to be doing that a lot."

"That's exactly what Draco said." Ginny changed the subject. "You said you fight back, given the chance. What did you mean by that?"

Maurice seemed reluctant to accept the shift in conversation but ultimately let it drop. Perhaps he sensed that he wasn't really going to get anywhere with that line of questioning. "Les Dragons, we fight the government. More specifically, we fight Death Eaters. Draco leads us."

In her head, Ginny _knew_ that Draco was their leader but she was still having trouble assimilating the fact with the Draco she knew. _That_ Draco never led anything but Crabbe and Goyle into a barrage of insults against Harry, Ron, Hermione and, occasionally, herself. It was simply amazing that people trusted him with their lives.

"But you should really talk to Draco about this," Maurice continued. "I don't know how much he wants to tell you; it's not my place to reveal our secrets."

"Well," Fiona said, "that was cryptic."

Maurice offered Fiona an apologetic smile; Ginny noted he had dimples, which just doubled the cuteness factor. She was tempted to tease them but at that moment a searing hot pain flashed across the top of Ginny's thigh.

"Ow, bloody hell!" she exclaimed as she jumped up and plunged her hand into her jeans' pocket. She'd put her Sickle in there when she dressed, and now Luna was calling her. It took her a moment to dig it out, and she burnt her fingers in the process.

_Well, who is it?_

Ginny laughed, the pain in her fingers forgotten in light of Luna's intuition. She wouldn't even bother asking how Luna knew she'd found the man from her dreams last night. Slipping her wand out of her sleeve, Ginny pointed it at the coin and wrote her reply.

_Draco Malfoy. Figures, right?_

"What does Luna have to say?" Fiona asked.

Ginny held up finger, in a 'give me a minute' gesture. The coin warmed again, this time less intensely, as though it knew she was holding it already.

_Interesting._

Ginny replied: _That's not exactly the word I would have chosen._

_Tell Fiona to trust her heart._

Ginny quirked an eyebrow and smiled at Fiona. "Luna says you should trust your heart, Fi."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I imagine it means exactly what it says."

"Ha, ha. I do believe you're the funniest person I know."

_And tell Draco, "In ice and stone, far from home, be not afraid. Fire, she will come to destroy the light."_

Ginny shook her head in confusion, wondering what Luna was on about

_All right... you lost me, but I'll tell him. _

She considered asking what the fallout of her and Fiona's disappearance had been, but decided she didn't really want to know. There wasn't much she could do about it anyways.

_Miss you._

_Miss you, too._

Ginny stuffed the coin back into her pocket and her wand up her sleeve.

"Well?" Fiona asked.

"She wasn't the least bit surprised," Ginny replied.

Fiona was quiet for a moment. "Do you think she knew all along and didn't tell you because she wanted you to come?"

Ginny snorted. "I really wouldn't put that past her." Ginny thought of how adamant Luna had been that she should go see Professor Trelawney. "Actually, I think you may be right, Fi. I wonder how long ago she figured it out."

"Figured what out?" Maurice interjected. He looked distinctly distrustful. Ginny supposed the conversation did sound a bit suspicious. "Who are you talking about?"

Ginny could have smacked herself for talking so openly about the one thing she did not wish to discuss. She really did prefer to avoid the whole thing rather than lie. Maurice seemed like such a nice bloke; it would be a shame to loose his trust before she really had it.

"Luna is a friend of Ginny's at Hogwarts," Fiona supplied. "She's the only one who knows where we are. She's also the one who gave us the coins so we could communicate if we needed to."

"She just wanted to make sure we were still alive." Ginny said.

Maurice's brow furrowed; he knew they were avoiding his actual question. "That doesn't explain what the two of you were talking about."

Ginny sighed. "Luna is…"

"Special?" supplied Fiona.

"Hah, I guess that's one way of putting it," Ginny replied. Maurice, however, did not seem any less confused. "Luna is connected to the universe in a way that most of us mere mortals can't even hope to understand. Merlin knows I gave up trying ages ago."

"I tend to think she's just plain crazy," Fiona said. Ginny rolled her eyes but chose not to respond.

Maurice paused, trying to make sense of the non-information Ginny and Fiona had provided. Ginny was beginning to accept that she was not going to be let off the hook so easily this time.

"So, what was she not surprised by? What does she know?"

Fiona deferred to Ginny this time. She sighed, again, and chose her words carefully. "The information I had coming here was incomplete. I knew I was looking for someone but I didn't know that I was looking for Malfoy specifically."

"And?"

"And we were wondering if Luna knew it was Malfoy and didn't tell me because she was afraid I wouldn't leave. We weren't exactly friendly at school and he didn't leave on the best of terms."

The expression on Maurice's face was very similar to the one Fiona wore when she was trying to wrap her head around something. Ginny waited patiently for the next question. Fiona lay back on the porch with one hand tucked behind her head and the other resting on her stomach.

"So you're on some sort of… mission?" Maurice said finally.

"I guess you could call it that."

"To save Draco from Death Eaters."

"Yes."

"Who sent you?"

Ginny smirked. "A girl's got to have her secrets, Maurice."

He frowned and turned to Fiona. "And you're-"

"- the easy-going and companionable sidekick, of course."

"More like the comic relief."

"Hey!"

"I'm sure your feelings are irreparably damaged."

Fiona stuck out her tongue. Maurice was smiling again, which was a good thing. It meant that his attention was focused on Fiona and not Ginny's motives. She figured she'd make an escape and leave them to get to know each other a little better.

"Listen, is Malfoy around? I need to talk to him."

Maurice shook his head. "He left early this morning to reconnoitre a possible Death Eater base."

Ginny's stomach turned as something cold and uncomfortable settled in. It wasn't quite dread, but close, and it seemed to be there for no reason at all. It was a very bad feeling, indeed.

Fiona swiftly pushed herself upright and was looking very concerned. "You all right, girlie?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Ginny responded, rather unconvincingly. "I don't suppose you'd tell me where he is, would you?" she asked Maurice.

He smirked. "A man needs his secrets."

"Touché." Ginny climbed the stairs to the door and tried to ignore the fear that was ricocheting about her ribcage.

Maurice and Fiona were both watching her progress with interest. "Are you sure you're okay?" Fiona asked. "Do you want some company?"

Ginny waved her off. "Don't be ridiculous. Relax while you have the time. I'm sure I can find something with which to entertain myself." She paused. "He didn't go alone, did he?"

"No, he took someone with him."

"Good." Maurice's reassurances, however, did little to assuage Ginny's concern. She didn't even really know why she was so worried. She imagined Draco did this sort of thing all the time; Maurice certainly seemed unconcerned. Besides, it was only reconnaissance, not combat. He'd be fine.

Ginny entered the house before Fiona could ask her again if she was all right. The first thing she wanted to do was write down Luna's bizarre message to Draco. It sounded like nonsense but, knowing Luna, it was probably life-alteringly important. Digging a slip of parchment and a quill from her trunk, she copied the message. After the ink dried, she folded it up and put it in her jeans' pocket.

Not looking forward to another encounter with Adrienne, Ginny left her room and went straight for the basement. She found there were actually two subterranean levels. The first appeared to be some sort of canteen while the second, she discovered upon entering, was a training facility much like what the Room of Requirement had provided for Dumbledore's Army.

The dozen or so simultaneous double-takes her arrival earned were almost comical. The various witches and wizards were separated into teams of three and four and were duelling each other. She recognised a few of the faces by sight from her dreams, but others were completely foreign to her. After a moment, they returned to their exercise and jinxes and hexes were soon flying everywhere. Ginny noted that the walls seemed to be spelled to absorb errant curses.

A young man detached from one of the groups and made his way around the fray to Ginny. He had thick, black hair and kind, brown eyes. "Hello," he said, extending a large hand. "I'm Jean."

"Ginny," she responded with a smile. It never hurt to turn on the charm. "Nice to meet you."

"Enchanté," he replied in kind. "Welcome to Headquarters. Have you been transferred here from another safe house or are you a new recruit?"

Ginny saw her golden opportunity. Jean was a friendly guy and while she doubted he knew as much about Draco's goings on as Maurice, he was probably more likely to share what he did know. That aside, she would need to make friends amongst the ranks if they were ever going to believe a word she said.

"I guess I'd be a new recruit."

"Ah," Jean said, "in that case, welcome to Headquarters _and_ Les Dragons Blancs. May I ask where you're from?"

"England."

Jean's bushy black eyebrows reached for the sky. "England? What brings you here?" he asked in surprise. "I don't mean to be rude, but England has been purposefully blind to the state of France for a long time."

"So I've been told," Ginny said grimly. She was ashamed by her country's apathy towards its neighbours. "But if there is anyone at home who knows about this, they're either Death Eaters or aren't talking. I myself just heard about twenty minutes ago. I never realised Voldemort's reach was so long."

Jean became noticeably uncomfortable at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, and altered the subject. "So, what brings you to France?"

"I have business with Malfoy," Ginny replied. "We went to school together. My friend, Fiona, and I have come to help."

"If you only learned about the condition of our government twenty minutes ago, how did you know that we needed help?"

Thankfully, Ginny had been prepared for this question. "We came to help Malfoy," she said. "We didn't realise he was your leader until we arrived late last night."

Jean seemed pacified by this response because the mildly suspicious expression on his face had melted back into a much more amiable one. "Have you been introduced to anyone else?"

"Only Maurice and Adrienne," Ginny said. "She doesn't like me very much."

Jean laughed at this. "Adrienne doesn't like much of anyone."

"Perhaps, but I doubt she assaults everyone else she dislikes as she passes them in the corridor."

"Give her some time; she'll get used to you being here." Jean then proceeded to point out everyone else in the room; Ginny made a mental note to speak with each of them personally before the week was out.

Afterwards, Ginny was invited to join Jean's duelling team as they were one short. She agreed eagerly, not only because it was something to do, but she had a feeling that she would need to brush up on her combative spells if she expected to hold her own in this new front of the war. In England, underage children had been pretty much off limits as far as direct conflict was concerned, but there at Headquarters most of the people she had met were about her age, if only a little older. Some were younger.

Ginny duelled with Jean and the other Dragons present for the better part of two hours, when Adrienne came down the stairs and announced that lunch would be in twenty minutes if anyone would volunteer to help someone named Marcelle in the kitchen. Ginny volunteered, if only to spite Adrienne's baleful glances in her direction.

Fiona and Maurice joined Ginny and Jean for lunch once it was prepared, and Jean introduced her to his wife of less than a year, Julie. She was about Ginny's height with short brown hair and blue eyes. She was also four months pregnant and desperate to get out of the country.

"What's the rush?" Fiona asked after swallowing a mouthful of turkey sandwich.

"Julie and I are both Muggleborn," Jean explained. "The law forbids us from having children with other Muggleborns."

Ginny choked on her pumpkin juice and Fiona's jaw just about hit the table. Julie smacked Ginny's back, trying to ease the fit of coughs that followed her unsuccessful attempt at inhaling her beverage.

Fiona looked to Maurice for independent confirmation. "It's true," he said. "If the government found out, they'd make her terminate the pregnancy."

"That's-"

"Disgusting," Ginny finished. She didn't want to know what happened to the children who were carried to term.

"Draco has been trying to get us into Andorra, but entering France is much easier than leaving France," Julie continued. "We had been stationed in Paris but he moved us here because the wards are stronger."

Ginny made her second mental note of the day to harass Draco about the state of Jean and Julie's move to Andorra. She didn't want either of them present when the Death Eaters launched their attack on the cabin.

"How many safe houses are there?" Ginny asked.

"Only Draco knows that," Maurice supplied. "Adrienne knows where most of them are because she helped set them up, but there are at least a dozen that only he knows about. Besides the people stationed there, of course."

Ginny was surprised to learn that their network was so extensive. It was no wonder she and Fiona had been spotted almost as soon as they'd entered the country. She couldn't help but wonder how many Dragons in disguise she had spoken to before finding Maurice. "How many of you are there?"

Maurice shrugged his shoulders. "Draco is the only one who knows that, too. Most of the posts only have a handful of people manning them. For instance, in Beaurieux, there is only one other besides Jacques and Gaston, whom you met."

"'Met' being a relative term," Fiona muttered under her breath.

Maurice looked sheepish. "Sorry about that. How is your shoulder, by the way?"

"It's all right," Fiona replied. "Thanks to you."

Maurice actually blushed and Ginny was only barely able to repress the 'aww' that threatened to escape. Fiona, too, was blushing slightly, and Ginny took that as her cue to leave. She asked Jean to give her a tour of the compound while Julie announced that she was exhausted and wanted a nap.

Jean informed her that they were in the middle of a national forest near the town of St. Gonlay in Bretagne. When Ginny asked why the wards were strongest on the cabin, Jean explained that most of the stronger and more effective wards were government sanctioned so not only was it extra difficult to cast them, but the Ministry had a habit of locating the charms and disabling them. As it turned out, very few of Les Dragons' 'safe houses' could be considered safe at all. Once again, Ginny was astonished by the militant atmosphere the French government had created for its people.

The list of people she knew had grown considerably, as well. Besides Jean, Julie, Maurice, and Adrienne, Ginny had also been introduced to Marcelle (whom she learned was the resident culinary general), Celine, Elaine, Marie, Guillaume, Alex, and Daniel, who were all part of her duelling group. She had also been introduced to a scatterbrained young man named Stephen, whom she had helped to pick up a rather large stack of parchments he had dropped after running right into her and Jean.

With the exception of Adrienne, Ginny liked everyone she met.

The day passed so quickly that she had almost forgotten she was worried about Draco. The anxiety had been quietly gnawing away at the back of her mind, telling her that something was not right, and that she was foolish to have let so much time pass without at least inquiring after him. It was not, however, until just before sunset that she finally allowed herself to admit that she was afraid for the pointy git and decided to find Maurice.

She found him sitting outside on a felled log at the edge of the clearing. It was the first time all day that she had seen him without Fiona attached to his hip. He was staring off into the woods so intently that he did not hear her approach and jumped at the sound of her voice.

"Where's Fiona," she asked.

"In the kitchen," he replied, after regaining his composure. "She volunteered to help make supper."

"Gods, help us," Ginny said as she sat next to him on the log. She let the silence settle between them for a moment. "He's not usually gone this long, is he?"

Maurice frowned, knowing exactly whom she was talking about. "No," he said at last, not liking the admission one bit. "Not without sending word."

"Where is he?" Ginny asked softly, hoping her tone would inspire him to share.

"I don't know," he replied, grudgingly. "But even if I did, I couldn't tell you."

Ginny knew he was not being spiteful or distrustful, merely honest. Les Dragons were enemies of the state, and they did everything in their power to ensure the safety of their own. Draco's devotion to Jean and Julie's welfare was a testament to that. They were both Muggleborn, but he was apparently going to great lengths to protect them and their unborn child.

"Do you believe in gut feelings?" Maurice asked, finally turning to face her.

Ginny barked out a short laugh. "They're the basis of my decision making paradigm."

"Well, I have a really bad one."

"Me too."

They sat together on the log in silence after that, waiting for Draco to appear before them, or swagger on out of the woods and make fun of them for waiting on him.

After a few minutes, Ginny felt her eyes grow heavier and heavier as she fought off a yawn. It was bizarre and disconcerting to have this intense and inexplicable need to sleep. She fought the urge to nod off as long as she could, but soon her eyes fell shut and she sensed herself topple off the log as she slipped into slumber…

_Ginny peered up at the ominous shadow of a mansion before her. There was merely a glimmer of sunlight in the west and the moon had not yet risen high enough to provide any source of usable light. The house did not look like one to be entered without invitation._

_Strapping her broom across her back, Ginny looked to the almost invisible black panther at her side. The animal's luminous eyes reflected eerily with what small amount of light there was to be had. "Are you sure this is it?" Ginny asked._

_The animal sniffed haughtily, as if to say 'What do you take me for?'_

_Just then, there was a crunch of rock being shattered followed by a bellow of outrage that shook the very ground they stood on. This was followed by more stone crushing and several distinct voices firing spells at once. The panther took off without hesitation._

"_Bugger," Ginny swore under her breath as she set out after the cat. Upon reaching the house, they crossed a stone patio and came to a side door which Ginny blasted right off its hinges. "You get Thomas, I'll get Malfoy," she said. _

_Fortunately, the parlour they entered was deserted, as was the corridor. Ginny let the cat take the lead; her excellent hearing would lead them directly towards the commotion._

_They ran as fast as was possible toward the back of the mansion where they came upon the ruins of an impressive indoor garden. Ginny quickly counted the black robes; there were ten in all, plus a monstrous Mountain Troll that was currently bashing in an archway on the far side of the garden. There was no immediate sign of Draco or Thomas._

_Suddenly, a jet of blue shot out of nowhere and hit the Troll in the centre of his chest. The impact caused it to stumble backward where it fell and landed on a Death Eater. It had, however, managed to retain its grip on the large wooden club in his right hand and was now flailing about wildly like an upturned beetle trying to gets its feet beneath it again._

_Ginny jumped when the cat shifted smoothly into Adrienne and the older woman took off without a word to the left, circling the fray, as of yet unnoticed._

_At last she saw a flash of platinum hair to her right, duelling his way into a corner…_

Ginny came to with a start, the first thing she saw being Maurice's face. He looked about to panic before he realised her eyes had opened. She was laying on the ground with him kneeling beside her.

It took her a second to process what happened. She had just had a vision, in the middle of the day, after falling asleep involuntarily. It frightened her that it was even possible. Every vision thus far had been during the night.

Apparently, it couldn't wait.

"Are you all right?" Maurice asked.

His voice jolted her to action. She jumped off of the pine needle covered ground and rapidly paced back and forth three times. "You _swear_ you don't know where Malfoy is?" she demanded urgently.

"I swear, I don't," he replied earnestly. "What's happening?"

"Oh, this is bad," Ginny said, completely ignoring his question. She cracked all of her knuckles nervously and then began shaking her hands as if willing them to provide her with some sort of epiphany.

It must have worked. "Adrienne!" she said triumphantly. "Where is she?"

"She won't tell you where he is, Ginny,"

"Where is she?" Ginny shouted.

"Try her room," Maurice replied, slightly taken aback. He was not dealing well with Ginny's manic behaviour.

Without so much as a 'thank you', Ginny raced inside where she took a right and then a sharp left up the stairs to the first floor. Jean had pointed out to her earlier in the day which room was Adrienne's.

At the top of the flight, she sprinted down the hall, turned a corner and ran head long into Adrienne. There was an awkward moment where neither realised who the other was as they tried to move around each other.

Upon recognising Ginny, Adrienne sneered and said, "Watch where you're going," before continuing down the corridor.

Ginny chased after her, hating that she had to ask her for help. "Adrienne, wait!"

She fixed Ginny with a glare that said, 'This better be good.'

"We need to go to Malfoy, and I know you know where he is so don't bother lying," she said.

Adrienne laughed mockingly and started walking away again. "You're more foolish than I thought if you think I'm just going to take you to him."

"He and Thomas are in trouble."

_That_ got her attention. Adrienne whirled on her and fixed her with a suspicious glare. "How did you know that Thomas was with Draco?" she demanded. "I am the only one who knew."

"The same way I knew your name, and Maurice's, and that your Animagus form is a black panther," Ginny said impatiently.

"Who _are_ you?" Adrienne asked heatedly.

Ginny realised she was not inspiring any confidence and made the decision to shoot as straight as possible with the distrustful woman. She had been hoping to keep her abilities to herself, but they really didn't have time to bicker. "I'm a dreamer, a seer; take your pick. If you don't want to trust me, fine. You want to ask me a hundred questions, fine, but _not now_. Every second we waste arguing is a second they don't have!"

Adrienne seemed moved by Ginny's passion, but still reluctant to believe what she heard. "A seer? You expect me to believe you're an actual, living, breathing seer?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, even though she had expected this sort of incredulity. Not everyone was as accepting as Fiona and Luna. "Thomas is about yea tall," she gestured at her shoulder with her hand, "with tanned skin, short brown hair, and brown eyes. He looks like he spends too much time out of doors."

"How-"

"I _saw_ him." Ginny paused to give Adrienne a moment to accept that she really did know what she was talking about. "They need our help," she said, pleadingly.

Adrienne glared, and for an instant Ginny thought she was going to refuse. "I still don't like you."

"Dually noted."

"Meet me at Draco's office in five minutes."

Ginny nodded mutely, grateful that she had been believed, and ran back down the stairs.


	8. Coming Clean

_A/N: I don't remember when the last time I updated this was, but if it's been a while then I apologise._

_Many, many thanks to my wonderfully spectacular beta, Lyr942, who managed to get this back to me in less than twenty-four hours even though she has exams this week. Good luck with those, darling._

_All right, I just wanted to let you all know that I'm going to be taking a brief hiatus and that this story will not be abandoned even though it may be a while before the next update. I want to take some time and get some chapters behind me in this and my other fics. Thanks ahead of time for being patient and bearing with me._

* * *

**Coming Clean**

**8 November**

Sprinting, Ginny reached her room in about fifteen seconds. She encountered no-one as most of the cabin's inhabitants were eating supper, but she was a little surprised that Maurice had not pursued her, or at least told Fiona. She was glad for it, though. It had only been her and Adrienne in her vision and she planned to keep it that way.

Ginny flung her trunk open and retrieved her broom, if only because she had had it in her vision. She hoped that if they were going to fly that it wasn't very far. She had the most dreadful feeling that the longer they delayed, the more likely it was that Draco, Thomas, or both would not survive to see tomorrow.

She also grabbed her broom's harness which she strapped across her chest like a quiver before securing her broom on her back. Ginny tied her hair back, doubled checked to insure her wand was right where it was supposed to be, and hurriedly made her way down the hall to Draco's office. She didn't want Adrienne to leave without her, just out of spite.

Adrienne was already inside, arguing with Maurice. Ginny shut the door behind her, for privacy's sake.

"This is not about what you are or are not capable of," Adrienne was saying. "This is about responsibility. If we don't come back, you'll need to be here to put the contingencies into place."

Maurice was thoroughly distraught, both for his inability to help and for the thought of losing Draco, Thomas, and Adrienne in one fell swoop.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked, mostly just to interrupt the tense exchange.

"I want to go with you," Maurice responded.

"No," Ginny said, firmly.

Adrienne looked mildly amused, but Maurice was looking at her defiantly. "No offence, Ginny – I like you, really, but you have no grounds whatsoever to hand me orders."

"You're not coming and we're wasting precious time arguing about it. You weren't in my dream; therefore, you're not supposed to be there. Period!"

Maurice looked at her like she was mad. She supposed she would be getting that look a lot in the near future. Ah, the curse of prescience.

"You're staying, Maurice, and that's an order," Adrienne said, pulling rank. "Be prepared to assemble an evacuation team if I call for aid." She turned to Ginny, "Follow me."

At the obvious dismissal, Maurice stormed from the room making sure to slam the door behind him. Adrienne paid him no heed. Instead, she grabbed the white dragon paperweight off of Draco's desk, turned and inserted it into a small hollow hidden behind the mantelpiece which was behind Draco's desk. She twisted her wrist anti-clockwise three times. There was a soft click as a secret door in the farthest corner of the room, directly next to the window, sprung open.

Ginny was impressed; the entire house was a clever conglomeration of Muggle tricks and spellwork.

Adrienne replaced the paperweight and Ginny followed her across the room, through the door and down two flights of stairs. Sconces on the walls lit themselves automatically at their approach, as did the room they entered at the bottom. It was apparently a large storage area, housing four rows of floor-to-ceiling shelves that were filled with coverless containers. They were all, Ginny noticed, labelled alphabetically. It was not, however, until they were walking past the B's that she realised the words on the boxes were the names of French towns, Beaurieux being among the first.

When they reached the P's, Adrienne took out her Ebony wand and levitated one of the boxes down into Ginny's hands. It was labelled 'Pexonne'. Adrienne removed two silver disks about the diameter of a Snitch and then levitated the box back to its place.

She handed Ginny one of the shiny disks. "Can you Apparate?"

Ginny nodded, affirmatively. She had passed her exam the day she came of age.

"Whatever happens, do not, under any circumstances, Apparate back here."

Ginny was dying to know why not, but refrained from inquiring at the moment; she'd take Adrienne's word for now. "I understand."

"Good. That," she indicated the metal object, "is your Portkey. It is already pre-programmed for the location and will activate by tapping your wand to it and saying, '_Portus_'. The next time you touch it, it will return you to the clearing outside. I suggest having either Draco or Thomas in tow when you do so."

Ginny nodded again, eager to be on their way. The tight ball of something that had formed earlier that morning was nearing critical mass, and she was sure she'd explode from nerves alone if she was not doing _something_ soon.

Together, the girls cast the Activation Charms on their portkeys and vanished from the storage room. They reappeared an instant later between a small barn and a farmhouse which were approximately thirty metres apart. Almost immediately, an old farmer in dirty coveralls and a straw hat emerged, brandishing what Ginny assumed was a Muggle weapon of some sort.

"Who's there?" he demanded into the growing night.

"Put the gun down, Frank," Adrienne said, calmly. "It's me."

The old man did as she said, obviously more at ease now. Ginny wondered if he was actually a Muggle or a Wizard in disguise.

"I expect you're looking for Draco," he said. "He was here before dawn, but I haven't seen him since. He set out on foot heading southeast."

Ginny was a little surprised by this. Draco could not have left more than thirty minutes after she had returned to her room. It also meant that he had been gone for nearly thirteen hours, which was a little distressing. She could not believe she had allowed herself to go nearly the entire day without inquiring after him further.

Then she looked at the position of the sun in the sky. It was only a little higher than in her dream, but they still did not have much time for dilly-dallying. She was very anxious to be on their way.

"Thank you," Adrienne responded. "Go back to your supper but don't be surprised to see more of us coming before long. Be sure not to shoot anyone."

Frank tipped his hat to them in farewell and entered his home.

Adrienne set off at once, heading southeast, and Ginny hurried to keep pace with the woman's longer strides. "Thank you for believing me," she said to Adrienne's back.

"I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for Draco."

"So am I."

Adrienne halted abruptly and fixed her steely amethyst gaze on Ginny like she did not quite believe her. But, instead of some snide comment voicing her doubts, she said, "Try to keep up; I won't be coming back for you."

Before Ginny's eyes, Adrienne dropped smoothly onto all fours; she was a panther before her front paws even hit the ground. It was a bit disconcerting. Ginny had only seen Sirius change once or twice, and she knew it would take her a while to become accustomed to seeing Adrienne one moment and be standing next to a jungle cat the next.

Adrienne took off at a full sprint, not once looking back to insure Ginny was behind her. Ginny swore under her breath, stuffed her Portkey in her pocket, and removed her broom from her harness. Hopping gracefully onto the broomstick, she chased after Adrienne, pushing her Cleansweep to its limits. Ginny caught up to her presently and took the opportunity to survey her surroundings. They were travelling through what were no doubt Farmer Frank's fields, but were fast approaching a thick swath of forest back-dropped by moderately high mountains.

In five minutes' time they reached the forest and Adrienne slowed only slightly; heavy forest was her natural habitat in her present form and the only true hindrance was the almost total lack of light. Ginny, however, had her work cut out for her. Her human eyes were even less effective in the dark and, because the wood was not old, she had to fly dangerously low to the ground to avoid low-hanging branches. There was also the tiny little fact that her target was blacker than black and totally unconcerned with making things any easier for Ginny.

Ten minutes, several tree branches to the face, and half a dozen near collisions with tree trunks later, they broke free of the forest and into another field. The mountains were extremely close now; had the sun been rising, not setting, they would have been entirely in their shadows.

Adrienne skidded to a stop and Ginny very nearly crashed into her. Raising her wide nose to the air first and then lowering it to the ground, she sniffed around for half a minute that seemed like half an hour. Ginny was about to voice her impatience when Adrienne snorted and set off again, almost due north. They had come out too far south of the mansion.

They travelled parallel to the mountains for several minutes and then through an arm of the forest that went right up to the foot of the nearest peak. They crossed it quickly, with Ginny suffering only one extra blow to the face, and entered a large clearing.

Adrienne stopped again, and stood as though waiting for something. Ginny hopped off her broom and strapped it on her back again, preferring to stand rather than hover, and followed the cat's line of sight. After a moment, the air in front of them wavered like pavement in the summer sun, and a very large mansion came into view. It was warded from Muggles, but not from unwelcome visitors, apparently. Either the inhabitants were a bit too cocky for their own good, or dangerous enough that it didn't matter.

Ginny suspected the latter.

Her eyes widened at the sheer enormity of the building. "It's bigger than in my dream," she said. "Are you sure this is it?"

When Adrienne huffed disdainfully, Ginny knew this wasn't just a bit of deja-vu; this was another vision being acted out in real life. She was unsure that she'd ever get used to the surreal feeling that came with living a dream, literally.

She knew what came next, and felt obliged to warn Adrienne of what was waiting for them, even though she had not done so in her dream. "There are at least ten Death Eaters and-"

Then the grating sound of stone being smashed to bits shattered the serenity of their surroundings.

"And a Troll," Ginny finished.

Again, without waiting for Ginny to follow, Adrienne set off at a sprint. The Troll was bellowing in outrage and was continuing to smash what Ginny knew was an indoor garden in the centre of the house.

"Bugger," she muttered under her breath before hurrying to catch up. They crossed a wide stone patio and Ginny pulled out her wand to blast the door open, before Adrienne reached it.

The richly furnished parlour was deserted, just as in her vision, as was the corridor. Ginny followed Adrienne - despite remembering the route - moving as quickly as possible until they reached the garden.

The room was enchanted – it felt like mid-summer, not the end of autumn – and was equal in size to, if not larger than, the Great Hall at Hogwarts. It had tall, broad archways leading out of it in several directions; it was a tactical nightmare. Reinforcements could come from any quarter of the house and they would have no hope of waylaying them.

Ginny noticed many more details this time. In the middle was a tiered fountain feeding into an octagonal basin. Scattered throughout were large stone pots which had various types of shrubs, trees, and flowers growing in them; it was too dark to rightly discern the specific species but Ginny assumed they were all magical, considering where she was.

There were torches lit along the entire perimeter of the garden and there was only glass for a ceiling. Ginny could see the stars beginning to twinkle above her, and was briefly reminded of the enchanted ceiling at Hogwarts.

But what really drew her attention was the Troll psychotically bashing in an archway across the way with a massive club. He let out another roar, and Ginny felt it rumble all the way up to her knees.

"You get Thomas – he knows you. I'll find Malfoy."

Suddenly a bolt of blue magic blasted the Troll to the ground. It landed on a Death Eater who reacted too slowly, just like in her vision, and began thrashing madly on the floor trying to right itself again.

Ginny was prepared for the change, and made no reaction when Adrienne was suddenly standing next to her and not the panther. Silently, she circled to the left, clinging to the shadows so as to not be seen.

The other nine Death Eaters present had divided into three groups. Three of them were defending the entrance that the Troll had mostly demolished, as well as firing curses down the hallway. Others were trying to contain the Troll, who was still wreaking serious havoc with his club.

The last three were moving steadily to the far right of the garden working purposefully to trap the blond intruder. Draco was dong remarkably well considering it was three on one but Ginny saw that it would not be long before they had him truly cornered with no escape.

Ginny ran toward the right and took cover behind a very large flowering shrub. Draco was completely walled in by his opponents when she fired her first spell at an enemy since she was fourteen in the Department of Mysteries.

­_"Stupefy_!"

The spell only grazed the Death Eater and did not knock him unconscious, but it did slam him awkwardly into the wall, forcing him to drop his wand. The one in the middle turned to seek out the new attacker and Draco took this opportunity to assault the third directly. As the Death Eater drew nearer, Ginny noted that the person was of a slighter build than the others, and even their heavy black robes could not conceal the feminine curves and the sway of their hips. It was definitely a woman. In the back of her mind, Ginny desperately hoped it wasn't Bellatrix Lestrange.

Ginny did not hear the spell that Draco cast, but whatever it was left his opponent a bloody mess who was most certainly dead as he crumpled to the ground. He turned then and engaged the one that Ginny had originally hexed, and began duelling.

Deep inside, Ginny wanted to be horrified that she had just watched Draco kill a man. She wanted to be revolted that she had given up her life to help a man who was even capable of it, but she couldn't… at least not to the degree she should have been. This disturbed her more than Draco's actions did.

Battle soon distracted her. Ginny jumped back behind the shrub as a jet of green light sailed past her hiding spot. She refused to think about how very close she came to dying just then. These were obviously the kill-first-ask-questions-later sorts.

She spun around to the other side of the bush and began firing spells at her would-be murderer. "_Impedimenta! Stupefy! Expelliarmus!_"

The first spell caught her off guard and stuck her feet to the floor. She blocked the second, but was not quick enough to divert the third. Ginny managed to catch the wand as it sailed through the air and stuck it in her pocket.

"_Stupefy!_" she exclaimed again; this time the Death Eater collapsed backward onto the ground.

Swiftly scanning her surroundings, she spotted Draco's platinum head. He and his opponent were working their way back toward the Troll. There was still no sign of Thomas, and Ginny couldn't make out Adrienne anywhere in the garden.

The next instant, two things happened simultaneously. The Troll regained his footing, and the Death Eater that Draco was duelling cast an unfamiliar spell, sending forth a black rope of magic that wound itself around Draco's ankle like a whip. The Death Eater moved his wand in an arc over his head, dragging Draco with it. The whip-like spell released Draco mid-arc, sending him soaring through the air.

Ginny saw him point his wand at the ground, and was amazed that he had the presence of mind to cast a Cushioning Charm before he landed. Unfortunately, he was tossed almost directly in front of the angry Troll. By the ear-splitting roar the creature let loose, it would appear that Draco was probably the one who had knocked it over to begin with.

Ginny didn't realise she'd been holding her breath until Draco rolled away from the first blow and she released it. But the Troll was hardly the worst of his concerns; the three Death Eaters who had been containing it now turned their attentions toward Draco. She knew that there was no way she'd be able to distract them long enough to allow Draco to escape to a better vantage point.

Without hesitation, Ginny reached behind her back and released her broom and hopped on. She shot upward, above the level of spellfire, and circled the duelling combatants like a hawk. The Death Eater with whom Draco had been duelling spotted her, and began firing curses at her, trying to knock her off of her broom. She never would have expected her Quidditch manoeuvres to be useful in real life. Ducking and weaving an intricate pattern around the room she realised she rather hated being on the defensive. There was a reason she preferred playing Chaser.

After circling the room twice, gathering speed, she headed straight for her assailant. He was surprised by her sudden change of tactics, but still managed to cast a spell. Ginny almost dodged it, but it still grazed her cheek, sending a searing hot pain across the tender flesh. Angered, she urged her broom faster before she jerked hard on the broomstick, whipping the end around and hitting him squarely in the head. He toppled over, concussed and unconscious. Ginny added his wand to the other in her pocket and flew off to aid Draco again.

Draco had felled another Death Eater, leaving them only two and the Troll to deal with. The three who had been defending the corridor had moved farther down it but were still sending an almost continuous stream of spellfire around a turn in the hallway.

Carefully aiming her wand at the Troll's club, Ginny shouted, "_Reducto_!" She was extremely pleased when the wooden weapon splintered in the Troll's hand, even as he let another blow fall. All four combatants ducked to shield themselves from the debris; Ginny made good use of the distraction.

Urging her broom to go as fast as possible, she went straight for Draco. But the Troll came to it's senses and blocked her path, spoiling Ginny's plan. Luckily, there was a Plan B. She began circling the Troll like a bothersome fly at a picnic. He swung at her, mindlessly and completely unaware that he was making not-being-pummelled very difficult for his Death Eater friends. Draco picked them off easily; it was just the two of them and the Troll now.

"Malfoy!" she shouted, getting his attention. "Grab a hold of me!"

Swooping down to ground level, Ginny slowed just enough for Draco to wrap his arm around her waist and hop onto the back of her broom. Before the Troll could pound them through the floor, Ginny angled upward, putting them out of reach.

"Weasley?" Draco asked, disbelievingly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"It's nice to see you, too, Malfoy," Ginny replied, impatiently. "Where's Thomas?"

Ginny knew that Adrienne was supposed to be looking for him, but since the last group of Death Eaters was still fighting _someone_, she didn't want to leave either of them before she knew they would be safe. Even if she really, _really_ didn't like Adrienne. At all.

"How-"

"Where is he?" Ginny reiterated, a little louder this time.

"I don't know," Draco responded in kind. "We were separated."

"Brilliant," she muttered. Ginny debated briefly on a course of action and, naturally, chose the most reckless. "Hang on tightly, and keep your head down," she warned.

Before he could question her, Ginny sped off again, swinging wide of the Troll and aiming for the archway through which the three Death Eaters had disappeared. Reflexively, Draco tightened his grip around her midsection and right before they dove beneath the arch, she felt him lay his head on her shoulder in order to make them as streamlined as possible. For a second, she was reminded of the image of the two of them kissing by the stream, but pushed it aside quickly.

Not far down the passageway, the three Death Eaters were posted up at the corner of an intersecting hallway and were still firing curses. Draco cast a Blasting Charm at the wall above their heads, which sent all three flying across the way.

Ginny rounded the corner but they were moving so quickly she had to spin the broom on its axis a complete three hundred and sixty degrees to avoid crashing into the wall opposite. Draco muttered something about bloody Gryffindors flying like bloody maniacs, which made her smile despite their desperate circumstances.

At the explosion, a head popped out of a doorway towards the other end of the hall. Ginny sighed with relief when she recognised Thomas. When he saw Draco, he stepped fully into the hallway. He was cradling his left arm, but appeared otherwise unhurt.

Ginny slowed to a stop next to him, but Draco's grip on her waist did not slacken in the least. "Have you seen Adrienne?" she asked Thomas without preamble. "She was supposed to find you."

"Who are you?" he demanded, sceptically.

Draco twisted his head around to look at the side of her face. Ginny turned to face him as well, and involuntarily noted that they were close enough to kiss. Even more involuntarily, and with equal measures of inappropriateness, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. She frowned at herself, and thankfully, Draco's voice jerked her back from the edge of those dangerous waters – only madness lie there.

"Adrienne's here?" Draco snapped. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Don't get shirty with me," Ginny returned. "Let's just find her. Assuming you haven't seen her, of course," she said to Thomas.

Thomas shook his head. "No, I ha-"

"Adrienne!" Draco exclaimed, suddenly. She had just turned onto the corridor at the end which he and Ginny were facing. For the first time since Ginny had met her, in all of the dreams which Adrienne had made appearances, she was neither sneering nor indifferent. She looked harried and flustered, and had a line of claret leaking from a nasty gash above her left eye.

Relief flooded her face, briefly, when she saw them, but it was quickly gone. "Run!" she shouted, her voice laced heavily with urgency.

Ginny didn't need to be told twice. She turned the broom around and headed back from whence she came. She flew past the hall that led back to the garden – and the Troll – and followed the natural course of the hallway.

Chancing a glance behind her to at least see what they were running from, she immediately wished she hadn't. Behind Adrienne, who was last in their procession, a wall of solid fire was engulfing the entire height and width of the corridor.

"Bloody fucking hell," she swore.

Ginny felt Draco turn and look as well. "Shite. Does this thing go any faster?"

She slid her wand back up her sleeve, knowing that she would need both hands for control and hoping that Draco would protect them. Draco, who now had her so tightly in his grasp that she could scarcely breathe.

Ginny took a sharp left and realised with a sick, heavy feeling in her gut that there was nothing at the end but a full length stained glass window – no more intersecting corridors, no doors, nothing. She looked over her shoulder again and saw nothing but flame; Adrienne and Thomas had either been consumed by the blaze or had managed to Portkey out. She sincerely hoped it was the latter.

She could have kicked herself when she remembered her Portkey.

Keeping her left hand steady on the broomstick, she removed Draco's right hand from her waist and put it on the stick as well. Now free to use her own right hand, Ginny began attempting to get even a finger on the tiny metal disk in her pocket.

"Weasley… window!"

"Don't let go of me," was all she said in reply. Draco wrapped his left fist up in her jumper.

They burst through the window at the exact instant that Ginny touched the already activated Portkey, and they vanished before a single shard of glass hit the ground.

The pine needles covering the ground at headquarters did little to break their fall. Both Draco and Ginny landed hard, side by side – well, more a tangled heap to be honest – and were coughing in an attempt to put some air back in their lungs. She could hear Adrienne and Thomas nearby and was supremely relieved that they had not perished.

Breathing somewhat more normally, Ginny and Draco gave untangling themselves a try and were mostly successful. Draco was now on his back with one arm draped across his face while Ginny was on her stomach, partially sprawled on Draco's chest like they had just woken up together.

She could hear his heart beating double-time in his chest, keeping pace with hers, and Ginny was grateful that they had made it out alive, that he had a heartbeat for her to listen to at all.

"Are you all right?"

"I've been worse. You?"

"I've been better. I was sure we were goners, there, for a moment."

Draco snorted indelicately. "So did I, but for a completely different reason."

Reluctantly, Ginny picked her head up off his chest and looked at him. "What _are_ you talking about?"

"You fly like a bleeding lunatic, girl. I saw my life flash before my eyes."

Ginny pushed herself onto her knees. She couldn't tell if he was teasing her or if he was serious. "I got us out, didn't I? What were you doing in there, anyway? Maurice said it was just reconnaissance."

Draco sat up, too. Behind them, the cabin door opened, and a handful of Dragons drifted into the clearing to investigate.

"What? How do you-? Never mind; I expect you were just lucky again, right?" He paused. "What were _you_ doing there?"

"It looked a lot like I was saving your life," Ginny said, sharply.

For a minute, Draco looked unsure how to respond to this before deciding to be angry about it. He jumped to his feet, as did Ginny. He was only a few inches taller than her, so he was not quite able to pull off the towering effect he had been aiming for. They were standing less than an arm's length away, glaring at one another.

"What the bloody hell was in your head, Weasley?" he yelled.

"What's in my head?" she said, jabbing his chest with two fingers. "What's in _your_ head? Rushing in blind, without backup – how could you be so careless?"

"I can take care of myself," he ground out. "I had everything under control. And I had backup; Thomas was there."

Draco was now walking furiously toward the cabin, and Ginny hurried to catch up. This argument was _so_ not over. "I would hardly consider two versus ten and a Troll 'under control'. If Adrienne and I hadn't shown up, you and Thomas would both be dead right now!"

Then Fiona stepped out onto the lit porch. Her face was pale and she looked sick with worry but it all swiftly morphed into relief as she saw that Ginny was alive and whole. She ran the short distance between them and threw her arms around Ginny's neck.

"Ginny! What happened? Where did you go?" Fiona asked. "Maurice said you freaked out and left with Adrienne, but he wouldn't say why."

"Mr. Brilliant here has a death wish, that's what happened."

Fiona stepped away and looked at Mr. Brilliant.

"I can take care of myself," he repeated through clenched teeth. "I didn't need you to rescue me."

It was safe to say that Ginny was a bit more than cross. Even Ron had the grace to be thankful to someone after having them save his life. She wanted to smack him in the face and tell him to quite being such a prat.

"Fine!" Ginny shouted at his retreating form. "The next time I envision your untimely demise, I'll roll over and go back to sleep!"

Draco stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned to face her. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Ginny wanted desperately to tell him that it didn't mean anything, that he could easily ignore it and never mention it again. Until she remembered that Adrienne knew already, and Maurice probably had a pretty good idea, that she was a seer and that she would be answering questions soon enough as it was.

Looking around at all the curious faces, she said, "Not here, not like this."

Draco caught her meaning. "You've got some explaining to do, Weasley."

"I'm not the only one," she muttered as she, Draco, and Fiona headed toward the cabin. Adrienne and Thomas followed silently. Ginny really was not looking forward to this conversation. Draco didn't strike her as the sort to believe in all of that supernatural chicanery; he'd taken Divination just so he could make fun of Professor Trelawney. She was not expecting a positive response and was grateful for Fiona's presence, even though this was a battle she had to fight for herself. It was reassuring to know that at least one person didn't think she was completely bonkers.

Maurice was lingering in the doorway, watching the scene unfold. Draco addressed him. "Maurice, I'm glad to see that you, at least, had no part in the madness."

Maurice smirked a very Draco-like smirk, which was a little disconcerting on his boyish face, and said, "You have Adrienne to thank for that." He stepped aside to allow Draco to enter and fell in at Fiona's side as the group moved down the hall.

Behind them, Thomas asked a Dragon Ginny hadn't met yet to send for a nurse to look at his arm; he thought it might be broken.

Before Ginny knew it, the six of them were standing in Draco's office, all as taut as piano wire. As Adrienne closed the door behind them, Fiona gave Ginny's hand a reassuring squeeze before handing her broom to her. Fiona must have picked it up off the ground when Ginny wasn't looking.

Draco sat down heavily behind his desk and massaged his temples. He looked like hell. Little sleep, thirteen hours of surveillance and a nearly deadly duel just to top it off could really take it out of a guy.

"What say someone tells me what the _hell_ is going on _right now_," Draco commanded irritably. "Because you," he pointed at Ginny, "pose more questions than answers, and I have quite enough on my plate as it is."

Ginny's ordinarily quick and often impulsive tongued picked a fine time to desert her. She opened her mouth once, twice, three times, but nothing came out. She felt extraordinarily like a little firstie cowering before the Headmaster's desk. The words just wouldn't leave her mouth.

"Are you going to say something, or are you going to stand there, gaping like a codfish for the rest of the evening?" Draco asked.

Sighing, Fiona said, "Ginny's a seer. She's been dreaming of you, _all_ of you, for weeks."

Draco laughed tensely until he realised that he was the only one. He looked at Maurice, and then Adrienne in disbelief. Finally his gaze settled on Ginny. "Please, in the name of all that is good left in the world, tell me you're not serious."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Ginny said.

"I don't believe you."

Ginny huffed indignantly. "Don't be stubborn for the sake of being stubborn."

"I'm not being stubborn; I'm being realistic. Seers are about as common as-"

"Animagi?" Ginny supplied, making a point. "Three-headed dogs? Acromantulas? Evil Dark Lords, hell-bent on destroying the world as we know it? I'm as real as Adrienne and Fluffy, Aragog and Voldemort. We may be few and far between, but we do exist."

Draco looked as though some invisible force had boxed his ears. "I can't believe this."

"No, Malfoy, you can believe this, you just don't want to. There's a difference," Ginny responded, "and believe me; I know how you're feeling right now."

"I seriously doubt that."

"You're exhausted, confused, angry, and a bit queasy, if I'm not mistaken."

Draco said nothing but arched an eyebrow that fairly begged her to explain herself.

"You don't want to believe that you have no control over your life, that every decision is already mapped out somewhere and is just waiting for you to reach that point on your path.

"I drove myself mad trying to deny what was happening to me. I promise you it's a lot easier if you just accept it."

Ginny felt Fiona's hand give her wrist a comforting squeeze. Fiona was the only one present who understood even the smallest part of what Ginny was going through. She had borne witness to Ginny's physical and emotional decline and, besides Luna, had been the only one who tried to help. She slipped back into those shoes easily and Ginny sought refuge in the simple contact between friends.

"Weasley-"

"I didn't ask for this… ability, but it's what I've got, and it doesn't like to be ignored."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco asked.

"It means that Fiona and I are supposed to be here, in France, fighting this fight with you."

Draco seemed at a loss; it was an alien expression on his arrogant and confident face. He turned to Adrienne. "What do you think?"

Adrienne, for her part, looked as though she'd bitten into a lemon. "She does know impossible things." She paused and glared at Ginny. "This changes nothing."

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Maurice?" Draco said, cutting off any reply Ginny might have had.

"I believe her," he said, bluntly. Everyone looked at him. "Whatever sent her running off with Adrienne, I saw it happen. One moment she was sitting next to me and the next she was unconscious on the ground."

Draco turned to Thomas last, who had conjured himself a chair near the window opposite the door and next to the secret stair to the storage room in the basement. The abrupt man shrugged with his uninjured arm; if the action pained him at all, he didn't show it.

"I believe _she_ believes what she's said."

Raking his hand through his hair, Draco said to Ginny, "_Hypothetically speaking_, if you really are a seer, then…no, never mind. This is absurd."

Ginny threw her hands up in exasperation. "Merlin in a skirt, are you thick! Honestly, Malfoy, even Adrienne's admitted that it's possible!" she said, a little more loudly than was strictly necessary. "Why would I lie?"

Draco stood then, becoming more agitated. "How should I know? Maybe this is one elaborate story to keep your informant's identity a secret, or perhaps you're trying to infiltrate us."

"Now _that's_ absurd. You can't really believe that."

"Then who's your informant? Who do you work for?" Draco shouted. "Why are you here?"

"Unless you consider the Cruel Hand of Fate an employer, then no-one." Draco seemed taken aback by this reply. "There is no informant; everything I know, I know because I dreamt it. And you know why I'm here."

"Then tell me something, _anything_, right now."

_That's not at all unreasonable_, Ginny thought sarcastically.

Nevertheless, she quickly wracked her brain for something personal. She could not, however, help but feel like the bearded lady at the circus. But, she sucked it up, knowing that having Draco trust her was more important than her wounded pride.

"There's a brook, somewhere nearby, where you go to think sometimes." Ginny watched as Draco eyed his fellow Dragons sceptically, trying to discern whether they'd told her that little bit. "They didn't tell me. In fact, no-one's told me much of anything about you, other than that you seem like a pretty decent guy."

Draco snorted. "Loyalty makes people see what they want to see," he replied darkly.

Ginny suddenly remembered the obscene way the Death Eater's corpse had fallen to the ground; she remembered how Draco had calmly and efficiently turned without a second glance to engage the next opponent. She remembered the night Dumbledore died and how he had caused it.

But would she allow herself to reverse her decision to remain, to change her mind? Were her personal reservations too overbearing to permit her to continue with her mission? She was so confused. Her brain wanted to hate him, loathe and despise him; her brain wanted to run right back to Hogwarts and forget this ever happened, but her conscience was singing a different tune.

It told her that she had important things to do in France, with Les Dragons. It told her that doing the right thing is almost never the same as doing the easy thing. It told her that they were in a bloody war, and if the enemy would show them no quarter then why should they be so kind? Allies as devoted to the cause as Draco was were hard to come by; who was she to turn him away for a few character flaws?

Sadly, it had never occurred to her to not trust Draco; she had been too concerned with whether or not he trusted her. What she knew of him certainly did not inspire camaraderie, but her dreams told a different story. True, they bickered and argued as badly as Hermione and Ron had at school, but she'd also seen glimpses of an extremely private and intimate relationship between Draco and herself.

Could she forgive him his shortcomings for the greater good?

She thought maybe she could. She thought maybe she had an idea.

"Listen, Malfoy," Ginny began, "we're both coming into this with a lot of baggage."

Draco scowled. "What are you getting at?"

Handing her broom back to Fiona, Ginny walked around behind Draco's desk so that they were less than a metre away. He watched warily as she slid her wand out of her sleeve and cast a quick Slicing Charm across her right palm. She sucked in a gasp of air through her clenched teeth, but otherwise showed no sign that it hurt at all, which it did. It stung like bloody hell.

She held her hand out, palm up, to Draco. He raised an incredulous brow. "A Blood Oath?"

"I won't screw you over if you won't screw me over," she replied, flippantly.

"Are you insane?"

"I think I may just be," Ginny responded. "Do we have an accord?"

Everyone else in the room had gone deathly silent, even Fiona, who usually had something to say about everything. The only thing Ginny could hear was the blood rushing through her ears and that voice that sounded like her mother screaming frantically to walk away.

With a conflicted expression, Draco withdrew his wand from his pants' pocket and sliced his right palm identically to Ginny's, but hesitated in offering it. "Tell me again why I'm doing this."

"My irresistible charm, breathtaking good looks, and my stunning sense of humour?"

Draco snorted and actually allowed a small smile to grace his lips.

"My indomitable sense of purpose? My indefatigable drive to seek truth and justice?"

"That's closer to it," Draco replied. "But it's really more like you're a dog with a bone; you'd never let it go."

Ginny smiled. Draco took her hand in his, and her palm tingled where their blood mingled. The bubbly warmth slowly engulfed the rest of her hand and crept up her arm. She looked at Draco with wide eyes, silently asking him if he felt it, too. He looked at their clasped hands and gave an almost imperceptible shrug.

"Adrienne, would you do the honours?"

Ginny spared a glance at Fiona. She looked displeased with her friend's decision. So did Adrienne, for that matter; she was glaring at Ginny like she wanted to hex her into the next millennium. Maurice had an amiably bewildered expression on his face and Thomas seemed totally unaffected.

"Draco, I don't think this is a good idea," said Adrienne.

Draco's features became a touch more stern. "I wasn't asking what you thought. I was asking you to bind the Oath."

Adrienne's thin lips pressed into an angry line. "I won't do it."

Draco gave her a hard look that said, 'We'll talk about this later', but said nothing.

"Fiona," Ginny spoke up. "Would you?"

"I don't know, girlie," she replied, slowly shaking her head. "This is kind of a big decision… are you sure, I mean _absolutely sure_ that you want to do this?"

Ginny looked at Draco, weighing his sincerity, and then back at Fiona. The vibrations had, by this point, flushed her face and were beginning to move down her other arm as well as her chest. "Positive."

She sighed. "All right."

Ginny couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard Adrienne growl at Fiona as she joined them behind Draco's desk, facing their hands. She drew her wand, ten and one half inches of maple and Wood Nymph heartstring, and tapped their hands with it.

"This Oath is binding," Fiona said. A rope of brilliant orange magic wound around their hands, sending a jolt through Ginny's body and furthering the tingly feeling's progress.

"Ladies first," Draco said with a smirk.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I, Ginevra Molly Weasley, do solemnly swear upon my blood and my magic that I will neither by words nor deeds betray you, Draco Malfoy, Les Dragons Blancs, or the cause for which you fight. Only you can release me from this Oath. Should I break it, may Fate punish me as she sees fit." Her body was fairly humming from her head down to her knees by the time she finished.

Fiona tapped their hands again and repeated, "This Oath is binding." Another rope of magic wrapped around them, this one so purely white that it was almost transparent.

"I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, do solemnly swear upon my blood and my magic that I will neither by words nor deeds betray you, Ginevra Weasley, or Fiona Shepherd; nor will I commit any action that would knowingly and maliciously put your lives in danger. Only you can release me from this Oath. Should I break it, may Fate punish me as she sees fit."

Her entire being was reverberating with magic, blood magic. Ginny was sure she was visibly shaking, but her eyes never left Draco's to check. Steely grey bored holes into chocolate brown so intensely that she thought she might melt on the spot.

Fiona took a deep breath, as though dreading the completion of the ritual. "By your blood, your magic, and your words, you are bound to these terms. As you spoke, so mote it be."

When Fiona tapped their joined hands for the third and final time, a rope of blood-red joined the orange and white. The magic swirled and mixed and mingled, continuously growing brighter and brighter. The humming Ginny felt in her bones, she now heard in her ears. It drowned out everything else.

Then in a small but blinding flash of light, the magic disappeared, leaving the two Oath takers breathless and a little weak in the knees. Draco plopped with an uncharacteristic lack of grace into his chair while Ginny leaned against his desk for support. That was, perhaps, the most exhilarating thing she had ever done.

Ginny was vaguely aware of Adrienne storming from the room like a bat out of hell, but her eyes were still fixed on Draco's. His porcelain skin was slightly flushed, his lips were slightly parted, but the expression on his face was almost unrecognisable. He was looking at her like he'd never seen her in his life. No, it was more like he knew her, but was unsure if the girl before him and the girl he knew before were one and the same.

She felt the same way about him, and did not doubt that she had a similar expression on her face. Ginny turned to Fiona when she placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder. "I'm fine, Fi. Promise."

Fiona had the worried expression where her brow furrowed and her lips turned up to one side. She wanted to protest, Ginny could tell, but she refrained.

The silence that filled the room after Ginny spoke her empty reassurance was almost unbearably awkward. No-one knew what to say after witnessing a scene like what had taken place during their Oath-taking. Draco, mercifully and forever aware of social situations, took control.

"Would you please excuse us?" he asked Ginny and, by default, Fiona. "Maurice, Thomas and I have some things we need to discuss."

Ginny had no objections; she had a sudden and urgent desire to put at least two rooms between herself and Draco. She also needed to talk to Fiona. Her life had just taken a sharp and bizarre turn, and she was afraid she might topple over if Fiona didn't help her set it straight again. "Of course. We can talk later."

"Yes," Draco said, rather distractedly. "Later."

The girls turned to leave the office, but Ginny suddenly remembered Luna's note. "Oh, wait. I have something for you."

Draco looked at her, but avoided her eyes; it was like he wasn't sure how he felt about what he had seen there. "What is it?"

First Ginny removed the wands she'd nicked from her back pocket and tossed them on the desk. Then she began digging in her front pocket for the tiny piece of parchment.

"Where did you get these?" he asked, picking up the wands. One looked to be Mahogany, and the other was some lighter wood that Ginny didn't recognise. Draco paid the lighter one particular attention, before throwing a pointed glance at Maurice.

Ginny, too, looked at the young blond; his round blue eyes were widened dramatically in disbelief. Fiona was looking back and forth between the two young men, trying to discern what was being communicated.

"I disarmed two of the Death Eaters and kept their wands," Ginny explained, though for some reason it sounded incredibly inadequate. "They had masks on, so I didn't see their faces."

She looked again at the lighter wand, paying close attention to the details. It was long, nearly fifteen inches, and had intricate filigree carved into the length. The handle was delicate mother of pearl and equally ornate. In a word, it was beautiful.

Thomas spoke up, startling everyone but Draco. He, too, was staring between Maurice and the wand. "Is that what I think it is, Maurice?"

"Fourteen and three quarters inches of Almond wood with a Mermaid hair core." He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with the effort, and reached to take the wand from Draco's hand. "It's my mother's."

Ginny's mouth hit the floor. "­_What?_"

Fiona gasped, but tried to bite it back; she looked like she was trying to repress the urge to just throw her arms around Maurice's neck. She had such a big heart.

Maurice looked sharply at Ginny. "You didn't kill her, did you?"

Completely taken aback, Ginny nearly choked on her tongue. "What! No! I disarmed her and then Stunned her. She was quite alive when I left her." Ginny took a deep breath and added: "I've never killed anyone in my life!" She purposefully withheld the fact that his mother _had_ fired a Killing Curse at her, however.

Maurice's entire frame slackened with relief, and Ginny was very glad that she hadn't killed that Death Eater. When she looked at Draco, however, she was stunned to find him looking at her with newly found respect.

"What?" she asked, for the third time in as many minutes.

"While Madame Durant may not be the most skilled duellist," he began. Ginny scowled at the slight, but Draco ignored it. "She is one of the most skilled strategists they have. We've heard rumours of there being a heated competition between her and my father." Draco face faltered slightly at the mention of Lucius Malfoy, but he quickly covered it up by turning to Thomas.

Thomas shook his head. "No, sorry."

"Damn."

Ginny wanted to know what the hell was going on but reasoned that Draco was not exactly big on sharing and she would do better to allow him to reveal things on his own terms, of his own accord.

"May I keep this?" Maurice asked Draco.

"Yes, of course." Then he opened a desk drawer and dropped the Mahogany inside. To Ginny he said: "Was that all?"

"No, actually," she replied, snapping out of her musing. She handed him the message from Luna. Fiona already had the door open and was waiting patiently for Ginny. Draco quickly read the note, and looked at her strangely.

"What the hell is this?"

"It's a message from Luna. She insisted I give it to you."

"How in the world did you get a message from Lovegood? You don't even know where you are, let alone have access to an owl."

"Telepathy," Ginny deadpanned. She really just wanted to see how he'd react.

Maurice snorted. "They have coins with Protean Charms on them."

"You're no fun."

Draco shook his head and read the message again. "I think I know why they call her 'Looney'. What is this supposed to mean?"

Ginny held up her hands and began back-pedalling out of the office. "I'm just the messenger."

Fiona closed the door on Draco's next question and by silent, mutual agreement, they headed for their shared room. As soon as they were inside and the door closed, Fiona tossed Ginny's broom on her bed and wheeled on her.

"Have you gone absolutely, stark raving mad?"

Ginny flopped down face-first on her bed next to her broom and buried her face in the patchwork quilt. Her brain was truly a bit muddled, and she had been hoping for a short reprieve to put it back in order before Fiona freaked out on her. She sighed and rolled over. "It would seem that way, wouldn't it? But I really do think it was necessary."

"Which part!?" Fiona demanded. "The part where you rushed off into the wild blue yonder, into a place where you more than likely knew there would be Death Eaters with only a single girl who doesn't even like you? Or the part where you swore a Blood Oath with Malfoy just so he wouldn't send you express to St. Mungo's?" Fiona was literally vibrating with all of the pent up emotions she had refused to let loose in Draco's office.

"You could have at least told me! I know this is your show and that I really am just the companionable sidekick but I really don't appreciate being left out of the loop, Ginny. Sidekicks are supposed to help their partners out of tough spots. How do you expect me to do that if I don't even know you've gone, much less to where?"

Fiona, now deflated from her outburst, sat on the edge of her bed facing Ginny's knees. "And that Oath! What were you thinking?"

Ginny pushed herself up and rested on her elbows. The events of the evening were catching up with her, even though she doubted it was yet nine o'clock. "I was thinking that if we both swore a binding Oath, then we could put a lot of our trust issues to rest in an extremely abbreviated period of time, Fi. Even if we don't _want_ to trust each other, we at least have reassurances that we _can_.

"And I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I was about. It all happened so fast, and it was just me and Adrienne in my vision-"

"Oh, _sod_ your visions, Ginny!" Fiona said, finding a small pocket of steam to fuel one last outburst. "Did you ever stop and think for one second that maybe you have some dreams so that you can change the outcome? So it _was_ only you and Adrienne in the dream… but would it really have been such a terrible thing if you'd brought another dozen men with you?"

"But I didn't and everything worked out just fine."

"Yes, it did, but do you really think that's because you did what the dream showed you, or because you got lucky?"

Ginny truly had no answer for that. It had occurred to her during their search for Les Dragons Blancs, but she had never really allowed herself to dwell on it. Professor Trelawney told her that there was always free will, that she could always make her own decisions, but for as much as she'd experienced, following the dreams as closely as possible had wielded the desired results. So far; that wasn't to say that things wouldn't or couldn't change.

That scared her. How would she know when to follow what the vision showed her and how would she know when to deviate from it? Getting it wrong in either instance could prove fatal and she really didn't want someone's death on her hands because she read the dream wrongly.

When Fiona saw that she would get no reply, she heaved a great sigh and said, "I'll go see what I can nick from the kitchens while you clean up. You look like you got a bit chummy with the Whomping Willow."

Ginny snorted, and Fiona made her way to the door. "I really am sorry, Fi."

"I know, girlie. I know."

Ginny woke from a dream – the ordinary, garden-variety sort – sometime after four in the morning, but still found herself unable to return to sleep. Her head felt crowded and the room she and Fiona shared seemed claustrophobic in the dark. Heavy clouds had blanketed the sky sometime after sunset, completely blocking out the moon and stars, and even though it was close to sunrise their bedroom was still pitch black.

After a little while, she heard, faintly but distinctly, the sound of the front door closing. Curiously compelled, Ginny threw back the blankets and quietly dug her trainers and a heavy jumper out of her trunk. She slipped her wand into her pocket and, after a moment of debate, she yanked the quilt off the bed and snuck out.

She had known it would be Draco even before she had picked out his silhouette perched on the very same log she had shared with Maurice that afternoon. Even in the near absence of light, his hair was glowing. After watching him stare into the woods for a minute, Ginny quietly opened and closed the door. Merlin only knew why her heart was banging so nervously in her chest.

He heard her coming, crunching across the pine needles, and turned his head so she was just in his periphery before turning back to the black forest. "What is it, Weasley?"

It was not an annoyed inquiry, merely tiredly resigned. Ginny made a mental note to approach topics with him more tactfully in the future. By way of answer, she hopped over the log and sat next to Draco; their elbows brushed, but he didn't move away from her. Ginny smiled as she spread her quilt over their legs and folded her hands in her lap.

"What are you doing?" he asked, though not unkindly.

"Offering my quiet, if uncertain, companionship, such as it is, to a fellow insomniac. If you'd _really_ rather be alone, I can go around the other side of the house."

Draco stared at her for a moment, even though she doubted he could see any more of her face than she could his, searching for something. "Stay."

Ginny's stomach fluttered and she quickly turned away from his gaze to stare into the forest. "Thanks."

He didn't say anything in response, and Ginny wasn't offended. Both of their lives were crazy and it was nice to be able to just sit and be with someone who, if only for a short period of time, expected absolutely nothing of them. It was nice to not feel alone, like an island in a storm.

Draco interrupted the silence only to cast a Warming Charm on the blanket. They stayed together the rest of the night, entering the house only after the sun had risen, and prepared for another day of fighting a war neither of them asked for and fulfilling responsibilities they had taken up because no-one else had been willing to do so.


	9. Lost and Found

A/N: This chapter was beta'ed by both the lovely Lyr942 and the equally wonderful India. It's also _extremely_ long so I hope read through to the end, which, I think , is the best part. I would also like to thank all of you who've been extremely patient through my longer-than-expected hiatus. I told you I'd be back :)

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**Lost and Found**

**Wednesday, 12 November**

When Ginny awoke there was just a little bit of snow on the ground, and she spent nearly two whole minutes freaking out before she realised that today could not be _that day_. She'd hardly had two words with Draco in the past four days, let alone enough time to end up in his bedroom half naked.

Shockingly, Ginny had actually been spending the majority of her time with Adrienne; she might be the bane of Ginny's existence, but she knew how to duel, and Ginny was hardly going to turn down the opportunity to improve upon those particular skills. They were still far from friendly, and Ginny suspected the only reason Adrienne tolerated her was because it gave her a legitimate excuse to kick her arse – which she did quite efficiently and on a regular basis.

Fiona and Maurice had very quickly become attached at the hip and were the targets of much teasing at mealtimes. Ginny spent time with them when their schedules allowed, but everyone was quite busy. There was always something to do, whether it was basic household chores, or group mock-battles like Ginny had participated in that first day, or helping to prepare meals. What free time Ginny could find was usually put to use making more acquaintances among the other Dragons. She and Fiona had, with the exception of Adrienne, been absorbed into the group without a hitch.

Ginny had also not had a single dream since her episode with Maurice, and she couldn't decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing. After Draco and Ginny's Oath-taking, everyone present had been carefully avoiding the subject except for Thomas, whom Ginny had only glimpsed once as he left Draco's office the day before, looking grim.

Thomas had been the cause of much of Ginny's speculation, but the only conclusion she could come to based off of the limited information she had was that he was either some sort of spy or was Draco's eyes and ears. For what he was searching, Ginny could only guess. She hadn't even bothered inquiring after him or his status in Les Dragons.

Draco was a busy guy. Half of his time was spent away – Ginny hated not knowing where – and what time he did spend at St. Gonlay was full to the second. She knew that Les Dragons had splinter cells all over the country, but he seemed to prefer handling things personally. She couldn't tell if he was just overly motivated or if he truly did not trust anyone to complete his tasks competently – she suspected it was a mixture of both. Ginny also had the distinct impression that he was avoiding her; she couldn't really blame him after what he'd been told. She knew first hand what a bitter pill to swallow her gift/curse was.

Despite the fact that Ginny understood why they'd had so little contact, it was still frustrating. Today, she resolved, she would get some answers out of Draco if she had to kidnap him herself. Unfortunately, after a few discreet inquiries, she learned that Draco had left for Lyon hardly an hour past and no-one knew when to expect him back or why he left. Ginny would have to wait – not at all one of her long-suits.

Thankfully, not long after that Julie found her and told her that some of the other Dragons were preparing for a group duelling session if she was interested. Ginny said she was and went down to the subbasement. Fiona and Maurice were present, but Adrienne was not, much to Ginny's delight.

After pairing off with a girl named Ellen she'd met the previous day, they challenged Alex and Daniel to a duel. The boys, Ginny learned, had been best mates since their first year of school. As it turned out, the French Ministry had passed a bill very similar in nature to the Muggle-born Registration Act that certain people continued to submit to legislation in England. When Alex, a Muggle-born, refused to register upon the ratification of the new law, he had run away to avoid his imprisonment; Daniel had followed him, despite being a pureblood.

Ginny did not know Ellen's story yet, but she was quiet and smart, and Ginny thought they worked well together. They defeated Alex and Daniel – though not without a good fight on the boys' parts – and rotated challengers after everyone had completed their first duel. They continued like this for some time, doing very well, until they came to Maurice and Fiona nearly ninety minutes later.

The two teams were very evenly matched, though Maurice still surprised Ginny with his intensity. His face may have been boyish and youthful, but there was little doubt in Ginny's mind that he had seen his fair share of dire straits and combat situations. Fiona was not as adept offensively, but she was truly skilled in defensive spells. She was quick enough to defend both of them while Maurice attacked relentlessly.

After twenty minutes, they were the only set still duelling, and the others had formed a group in one corner of the room to watch. Briefly catching Ginny's eye, Ellen allowed a sly smile slip across her thin lips as she jerked her head towards her left. Ginny caught her unspoken meaning and returned the smile. Dodging spellfire, the girls split up, sprinting to opposite ends of the room, and surrounded Maurice and Fiona before they realised what was happening.

Ellen attacked Fiona vigorously while Ginny turned her attentions solely on Maurice. Finally, Ellen landed a Disarming Charm on Fiona. At the same moment, Maurice cast a Numbing Jinx at Ginny. She partially deflected it, and it grazed her left shoulder, effectively rendering it useless.

She took cover behind one of half a dozen support columns and set her arm to rights. Ginny heard Ellen and Maurice engage – a spell cast by each - but when she spun around the column to rejoin her partner, she halted abruptly at the sight of Draco descending the stairs two at a time, looking both grim and urgent.

"Maurice," he said, jumping the last three steps.

Immediately responding to Draco's demeanour, Maurice abandoned the duel and met him halfway. Draco said something too softly for Ginny to hear that caused Maurice's face to blanch. Fiona, who had retrieved her wand, was already advancing towards them. Maurice looked like he might be sick.

"Where?" he barked, his voice tight.

"Lyon." Draco looked as though he'd been planning to say more, but Maurice rushed off without hesitation.

Fiona followed, throwing Ginny a meaningful look before she did.

Then, to further Ginny's surprise, Draco crossed to her and pulled her aside. She was aware of the other Dragons' movement as they prepared to continue with the duelling session, but, if she were honest with herself, her world had momentarily been minimised to his hand on her back and the curious, fluttering sensation in her stomach. She tried her best to ignore it.

As they stopped near the bottom of the stairs, Draco turned to face her. He seemed to become as aware of their physical contact as she and hastily removed his hand. Draco stared at her, unsure how to begin.

"What's happened?" Ginny prompted. "Is Maurice all right?"

"How much do you know about Maurice?" he asked quietly.

"Not much," she admitted. "Fiona spends more time with him than I do."

"Did you know he has a sister?" Ginny shook her head. "She's thirteen now, but she's been missing for nearly two years."

"That's terrible."

"Yes," he agreed. "We've been looking for her but with no success."

"Until today?" Ginny guessed.

Draco smirked. "Yes."

"Not that I don't appreciate your taking me into your confidence, but I don't understand why you're telling me this."

Draco shifted uncomfortably but forced himself to continue. "I was wondering if you'd meet her; see if you recognise her, maybe tell us something we don't already know – which isn't much. She doesn't remember anything at all about the past two years, but every time she sees me she starts screaming."

Draco seemed truly distressed by this, and Ginny couldn't blame him – she was too. Unfortunately, she was unsure that she could be of any service at all. Her dreams came and went as they pleased; she had no control over them. Neither did she recall anything about Maurice having a sister, so it was doubtful that she'd have any useful information.

The earnestness on Draco's face was moving. "Ginny, please."

She was stunned by the sudden use of her given name, and while she knew he was only using it to get her to agree, she decided it was working as well as he'd planned. Ginny was also pleased that he had come to her at all. His confidence showed that he was beginning to believe her admittedly outrageous claim as well as his growing trust in her as a person and ally. The Blood Oath had apparently been a good idea.

"Okay, but I can't promise anything," she replied. "I really don't have much say over what my little gift does or when it chooses to do it."

Draco looked relieved, and Ginny realised how much he cared for Maurice and, by extension, his sister.

"I understand," he said. "Anything you can tell us would be better than what we have now."

Spontaneously, she said, "I want Ellen to come with us, too." Ginny jerked her head over her shoulder toward the soft-spoken, waiflike girl who was waiting patiently for her duelling partner.

Draco looked at Ellen then back at Ginny. "Why?"

Ginny shrugged. "Just a feeling. She can handle herself, if that's what you're worried about." It really was just a feeling – Ginny didn't know why, but she was positive that Ellen's presence would be a good thing to have. And she really did have faith in the girl's ability to take care of herself despite her frail appearance. She was clever and quick enough with her wand to compensate for any physical shortcomings she may have had.

Draco gave Ellen a hard, appraising look before saying: "Do you have any Muggle clothes?" Ellen nodded, shocked that Draco had addressed her directly. "Good. Go change and meet us at my office. You have two minutes or we're leaving without you."

Ellen sprinted off up the stairs while Draco and Ginny followed at a slightly slower pace.

"I really don't know what to make of you sometimes, Weasley."

"The feeling's mutual. What say you fill me in on some details, yes?" Ginny returned. She wanted to know everything he knew so that she would recognise any new information.

Draco, oddly, did not hesitate. "Maurice's mother, as you know, is a Death Eater. His father wasn't, but he did work for the Ministry so he may as well have been."

"Was?"

"I'll get to that part. When Sabine turned eleven but did not get her Beauxbatons' letter of invitation, his mother wanted to hand her over to the Ministry, and his father, being an Enforcer, had to agree."

"Wait – she's a Squib?"

"Yes. Maurice was furious, and he fought for her when the Collection Squad came. He was only fifteen at the time, but he did manage to blow up his house as they escaped. He learned later that his father died in the blast."

"Dear sweet Merlin. How terrible," Ginny said, more to herself than to Draco.

They were at Draco's office now; they entered but left the door open for Ellen. Ginny noted that there was already a Portkey waiting for them on his desk.

"They managed to elude capture for a few weeks, but Enforcers eventually caught up with them. They set an ambush – Maurice and Sabine were separated. He ended up in prison, but no-one ever knew what happened to Sabine."

"Wow." Ginny was stunned.

"Six months after that, Maurice escaped, miraculously, and Adrienne and I stumbled upon him not long after. Now here we are."

"How did you find her?" Ginny asked.

"That's what has me worried. We didn't exactly _find_ her. One of my contacts in Lyon saw her wandering through a Muggle market, recognised her, and brought her to the safe house we have in the suburbs there."

Ginny understood his concern. A thirteen year old Squib escaping whomever had her for two years with no memory of the intervening time was a bit dodgy to say the least. It was so… convenient. She was also glad that Fiona had joined Maurice; he would need her support, Ginny was sure.

Ellen arrived then, having switched out her navy blue robes for jeans and a white jumper. "I'm ready."

"Excellent." Draco levitated the tiny metal disk off the desk and set it to hover between the three of them. "_Portus._ All together, now."

In unison, they all touched a finger to the Portkey and reappeared in a finely manicured backyard that was surrounded by a very high picket fence. There was a respectably sized house – two storey brick with blue shutters – ahead with a short set of stairs leading up to the back door. Ginny could hear Maurice shouting through the walls. Draco pocketed the Portkey and headed for the house; Ginny and Ellen followed.

"Why am I here?" Ellen whispered to Ginny.

"Because I wanted you here," Ginny whispered back, honestly. "Listen, I'm going to be a bit occupied, but if something happens I need you to watch Malfoy's back – make sure he gets back to headquarters in one piece, all right?"

They entered the house into a moderately sized kitchen. Maurice and Fiona were in the adjacent dining room. He was arguing with Adrienne while Fiona tried to keep the peace. Ginny tuned them out as she followed Draco, who was now walking through the kitchen into the parlour, no doubt headed for wherever Sabine was. There was a flight of stairs leading up from the front door, and Draco started up them.

Ginny paused at the landing and turned to Ellen. "Stay here for now and keep an eye out for anything suspicious. Unless I'm mistaken this is a Muggle neighbourhood, so anything in robes, cloaks or Enforcer uniforms will be out of place."

Ellen looked confused and a little frightened. "I don't understand."

"I have a feeling this is not quite as simple as it seems. If you see anything, tell me or Malfoy straight away."

Before Ellen could object or question further, Ginny bounded up the stairs after Draco. He was waiting for her outside of a door towards the end of the hall. His face was nearly unreadable, and Ginny didn't know what to make of it.

"She's awake again. The nurse is just finishing up with her. Then you can go in."

No sooner had the words left his mouth did the nurse exit – a middle-aged woman who had that tired expression of one who had been in the Healing profession for too many years –looking drained. Not a good sign.

"She'll live."

Ginny frowned, thinking the statement a bit vague, but noted that the tension gripping Draco's body eased ever so slightly. The nurse left with the briefest of nods in Draco's direction. The door had been left open a crack, but when Ginny went to push it open and enter Draco grabbed her wrist.

"Weasley… she's in a bad sort of way." He paused and looked her straight in the eye. "We think she was tortured – magically and physically."

Ginny's stomach rolled, staging a revolt. Sabine was only thirteen. When Ginny was thirteen she was pining after Harry, enjoying the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and planning to tryout for Quidditch the next year.

Apparently finding whatever it was he'd been looking for in her eyes, Draco loosened his grasp, but Ginny caught his hand before it fell away. With a gentle squeeze and a reassuring smile, she entered the smallish bedroom and shut the door behind her.

The natural light flooding in through the windows - which, Ginny noticed, faced the street and not the backyard – gave the powder blue walls a sunny glow, especially since it was reflecting off of the thin layer of snow covering the ground. The room itself was set up much like her and Fiona's shared quarters, less the lavatory, with two beds and a desk with a mirror and chair. Sabine was lying in the foetal position on one bed, staring towards the other.

Her lower half was covered with a patchwork quilt, but Ginny noticed that her arms were covered with lacerations and bruises in various stages of convalescence, and her wrists were bandaged with white gauze. Unbidden, a sickening mental image of the girl manacled to a wall with iron shackles flashed across her mind. Ginny hoped it was her overactive imagination at play and not an odd manifestation of her visionary talents.

There was also a jarringly distinct hand-shaped bruise adorning one cheek. It was yellowing now and was probably a week old at least, but this did nothing to lessen the rage that filled Ginny at the sight. If she ever found who had done this to such an innocent and defenceless girl, she swore she'd kill the bastard herself. Unless Maurice beat her to it, of course.

Gingerly, Ginny walked between the two beds and sat down facing Sabine. The girl flicked wary brown eyes at Ginny's face before closing them tightly, apparently accepting that she was not a threat. Ginny was stunned by the familial resemblance; everything about Sabine was nearly identical to Maurice except for the colour of her eyes. Her hair was longer and she was gaunt and malnourished, but other than that it was impossible to miss the relation.

"What do you want?" Sabine said with a surprisingly sharp edge to her voice. "I already told that other woman that I don't remember anything."

Ginny suddenly realised just how far in over her head she was. She was not a crisis counsellor; she had very little experience dealing with traumatised people and could hardly be considered an expert in her own field as far as the gift of prescience and divination went. What exactly was she expected to do?

"My name is Ginny… I'm a friend of your brother's."

That got Sabine's attention. Her round eyes snapped open, and she tried her best to push herself to sitting. "Maurice is here? He's alive?"

Ginny smiled sadly. Maurice had had no idea what happened to his sister, but she hadn't had a clue as to his well-being either. One could have been dead and the other never would have known it. She felt a stab of guilt for how she left her family but forcefully pushed it aside. She had more pressing matters to deal with at the moment.

"Alive and well," Ginny reassured the girl. "He's been worried sick about you."

Sabine began to cry softly, and Ginny was put in the awkward position of not having a clue what to say or do.

"They told me he was dead," she said.

Ginny arched an eyebrow that went unseen by the other girl. She did remember something, causing Ginny to wonder whether Sabine had been Obliviated – albeit poorly – or if she was wilfully forgetting. She'd heard of people blocking traumatic events before and thought that maybe that was what was occurring with Sabine. Being kidnapped and tortured for two years certainly fell under the Traumatic Experiences category.

"Well, they lied. Do you remember anything else they told you?"

Sabine cried even harder but shook her head emphatically. "Everything is so fuzzy and blurry and doesn't make any sense."

Ginny's heart went out to the wretched girl. Wishing she was as good at this sort of thing as Fiona was, she leaned across the gap between the beds and took Sabine's hand in hers.

With a painful jolt, Ginny saw through Sabine's eyes…

_Huddled in the corner against freezing cold stone, her entire body ached. Her hands were slick with the blood that had dripped from her raw wrists. She had been fighting against her bonds for so long that there was not much skin left beneath the broad iron cuffs._

_Two men entered the chamber, one dark and unrecognisable to Ginny and the other fair, aristocratic and nauseatingly familiar. Lucius Malfoy sneered at her cowering form on the opposite side of the room._

"_Today's your big day, useless girl," he said. Then, to the other man: "Cast the Tracking Charm and give her the potion. This uprising has been allowed to continue for far too long." Without waiting for a response from his subordinate, Lucius spun on his heel and departed in a dramatic swirl of black robes._

_The other man crossed the chamber with a menacing leer to drag Ginny/Sabine to her feet by the front of her ratty shirt. He pulled a phial from his robes' pocket and yanked the stopper out with his teeth. Ginny trembled._

"_Open wide, cherie," he said in French._

_Clamping her lips shut tight, Ginny shook her head – a jerky, terrified motion._

"_No? Have it your way." The Death Eater slammed her back against the wall. She whimpered as skull met stone and her teeth rattled in her head. Her shoulder blades throbbed where they were pressed into the unyielding granite. The man forcefully grabbed her delicate jaw and shook her head until her mouth opened. He squeezed the joint viciously, preventing her from closing it again._

_Ginny panicked and began thrashing wildly in his grasp, but he simply pinned her lower body with his leg. Chuckling darkly, he poured the tepid, viscous potion into her mouth and down her throat. She gagged on the foul stuff - it tasted like rotten eggs and stuck to the inside of her mouth and oesophagus – but he held her there until she'd swallowed it all down._

_Abruptly, as though he despised touching her, she was released. Gasping for breath and crying, Ginny sank to the ground. Her vision was blurring rapidly; reality slipped away, and the last thing she saw before everything went dark was the Death Eater raising his wand at her and firing a thin thread of canary yellow light…_

Disoriented, Ginny found herself viewing the world through her own eyes once more. Sabine was still crying and sitting in the same position, leaving Ginny unsure how long it had taken her brain to process the images passed to her from Sabine through skin to skin contact.

Ginny had never been this terrified in her entire life. Not even when Rodolphus Lestrange had had a wand pointed at her throat in the Department of Mysteries had she been this frightened. Ever since Ginny had come to France, her visions/dreams had been all sorts of wonky. She had not been having her usual nightly dreams, but the rare ability seemed to have progressed to middle-of-the-day premonitions and glimpses into the past, in Sabine's case.

Ginny was close to panicking, she could tell… what she had seen was real. Or it had been, at least – probably that morning. She could still feel the shackles on her wrists, the powerful grip the Death Eater had had on her jaw, and the taste of sulphur was overwhelming in her mouth. Fighting to breathe properly and to not wretch, Ginny removed herself from the bed as tactfully as possible. She mumbled something about fetching Maurice before stumbling out of the door and into the corridor.

Draco caught her as she fell. "Whoa there, Weasley." He paused, taking in her appearance before continuing. "Are you all right? What happened?"

When Ginny looked at his face, she flinched involuntarily, having no control over the lingering association Sabine had made between father and son. Whatever atrocious things had occurred in that cramped dungeon chamber, Lucius Malfoy had most definitely had his hand in it.

He looked hurt by her reaction but determinedly refused to let go, which was probably a good thing considering her legs felt like gelatine.

"What _happened_?" he repeated, more urgently this time.

Ginny forced herself to meet his gaze, knowing that those weren't her feelings but Sabine's. "I, um… Tracking Charm," she stammered. "She's had a Tracking Charm placed on her. She's led them right to us."

Draco uttered a string of curses beneath his breath, raking a hand through his hair. "I need to go downstairs. Can you walk?"

She nodded, and, thinking that her legs were steady enough by that point, Ginny pulled away but promptly discovered that they were not. Draco caught her again to her growing embarrassment. Swiftly and efficiently, Draco wrapped her arm around his shoulders and his arm around her waist and then proceeded to more or less drag her to the other end of the hallway and down the stairs.

Ellen was at the bottom keenly observing the street through a narrow pane of glass next to the front door. She did a double-take when she saw Draco and Ginny coming down the stairs as they were.

"Ginny, are you all right?" she asked.

"Fetch a glass of water from the kitchen," Draco ordered without an explanation. In truth, he did not know much more than Ellen did but had long ago adopted an all-knowing façade that most people simply accepted. This was no different; Ellen dashed off without complaint while Draco brought Ginny through the parlour where he set her carefully onto the sofa in front of the fire.

"Adrienne! Get in here." He turned back to Ginny. "Do you know specifically which Tracking Charm it was?"

Fiona entered the room hot on Ellen's heels and sat down right next to Ginny. "Dear Merlin, girlie, you look like you've seen your death."

Draco had been pacing impatiently, but stopped abruptly at Fiona's words.

Ginny snorted and took the glass of water offered to her with trembling hands but could not quite bring herself to drink from it yet. She feared it would come right back up. Maurice appeared in the doorway an instant later.

"Go to her," Ginny said to him. "She needs you."

Maurice needn't have been told twice.

Adrienne appeared in the same doorway, looking slightly annoyed by Draco's tone.

"I don't know the incantation," Ginny said to Draco, "but the spellfire was bright yellow."

Draco turned to Adrienne. "Sabine had a bright yellow Tracking Charm cast on her. Take care of it."

The black-haired woman nodded before lithely taking the stairs two at a time.

"Luc! Roland!"

Two men whom Ginny did not know entered the room. They were both of average height and build – one with brown hair and green eyes, the other with dark blond hair and hazel eyes. There was some resemblance between them, and Ginny wondered if they were cousins.

"Oui?" asked Green-Eyes.

"Strip the house quickly. Take everything important to headquarters. I'll reassign you later. Lyon will be abandoned for now." They looked confused but did not object. Instead of going upstairs, they returned to the kitchen; there was probably a basement like at headquarters.

Draco stared at her pointedly, and she again had to force herself not to look away.

"They gave her a potion, too. I don't know what it was but it tasted like spoilt eggs and made her head go fuzzy."

"I thought she couldn't remember anything," Draco said.

"She can't," Ginny replied. "I saw it." _I experienced it, first hand._

"What else did you see?" Draco demanded, but even in her rattled state, Ginny could sense his curiosity was tempered by dread. He didn't really _want_ to know what else she saw but knew he'd have to hear it sooner or later.

Fortunately for him, Ginny, too, preferred later to sooner. She did not relish having to tell him that his own father had been behind Sabine's internment. "I think you and I should talk about this at a more appropriate time. Right now we should focus on getting everyone safely away from here before the Ministry or Death Eaters show up to claim their prize."

No sooner had the words left her mouth did the house shudder, top to bottom. Ellen rushed to her previous lookout and peered out of the glass.

"I count… three Death Eaters, and… a dozen or more Enforcers," Ellen said.

Ginny swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat and glanced at Fiona. The brunette was pale as she leapt off the sofa and ran to the back door. Shortly thereafter she called, "Two Death Eaters and half a dozen Enforcers. Bugger."

"They're disarming the security wards," Ellen said, clearly afraid.

"Damn," Draco said. "Shepherd! Guard the rear – I'll send Maurice down to you in a moment." Then he grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her to her feet. The glass of water fell unheeded to the carpeted floor as he dragged her up the stairs again. She had most of her strength back now but still felt a bit wobbly.

They burst into Sabine's bedroom. Maurice was pacing nervously, throwing impatient glances at Adrienne and angry ones out the window at their newly arrived foes. Adrienne was deeply concentrated on the task at hand while Sabine herself looked close to a nervous breakdown. She scurried further up on the bed when she saw Draco, but, thankfully, did not begin screaming.

"We're under attack," Draco declared. "Maurice, go help Shepherd. Weasley will stay with Sabine."

"No! I'll not leave her. Ginny can go."

"That's an order, Durant. Now!"

Maurice was infuriated but gave his frightened sister a kiss on the forehead. "Ginny will take care of you. We'll see each other when this is over. I promise." Sabine nodded, not trusting her voice. With a glare in Draco's direction, Maurice left to find Fiona.

Ginny did not understand why he was putting Sabine in her care – surely it would have been better had Maurice remained. She was fiercely protective of those she loved but hardly in a maternal sort of way. Sabine needed to be with her brother.

Draco, who, Ginny noticed, was still holding her hand, addressed her quietly. "We're outnumbered three to one. As soon as Adrienne's broken the charm, I need you to leave with Sabine. Go anywhere so long as you don't Apparate."

"Why me?" Ginny whispered hotly. "I'd rather fight, and I'm hardly qualified for this – Maurice should be with her."

"I agree," Draco said, stunning Ginny to silence. "Maurice should be with her, but it's obvious that this was a trap set for him and probably me as well. The Ministry doesn't know about you yet and won't know to look for you like they would Maurice. Plus she knows you."

"Hardly." Ginny snorted. She had to admit he had a point, though.

The house shuddered violently again, and the walls flashed white. "They've broken through the wards," Draco said. "Take care of her."

"I will," Ginny replied. "Be careful."

Then Draco was gone. His absence was distressing in a way that Ginny did not care to examine just then. Her hand tingled.

A blasting spell hit the front of the house, snapping Ginny out of her thoughts. The security wards may have been disabled, but she hoped that there were strengthening spells on the house to limit destruction. Rushing to the window, she prised it open. There was the sound of glass shattering below; Draco had busted the windows, not only to allow them to fire upon their attackers, but to prevent injury from glass exploding inward.

The assault began. Ginny aided the defenders as best she could without drawing too much attention to the upper level of the house. The last thing she needed was to have the room blown through the roof because of her.

Everything was moving at warp-speed except for Adrienne, and Ginny was getting antsy. Les Dragons were sorely outnumbered, and she knew it would only be a matter of time before the defences failed and they were overrun.

There was another explosion, this one from the back of the house. Ginny rushed out of the room, across the hall and into the lavatory to see what happened. She could not see much from her angle, but it seemed as though the dining room wall had been blown into the house and was smouldering, threatening to burst into flames at any moment. To Ginny's immense relief, spellfire was still being directed at the attackers in the back yard from inside the house – Maurice and Fiona had survived the blast.

"I've broken the charm," Adrienne announced from the doorway.

Sparing one last glance at the skirmish in the back yard, Ginny brushed past her. "Good. Get everyone out of here as quickly as possible. Tell Draco Fiona knows how to contact me."

Without waiting for an argument from Adrienne, Ginny shut the door to Sabine's room behind her and swiftly glanced around the room for a suitable item with which to create a Portkey. There was a pocket-sized leather bound book on the desk. She had never made a Portkey before, but she knew the incantation and had learned the theory in Charms just a few weeks past.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny pointed her wand at the book and, thinking very hard on the front porch of Farmer Frank's house in Pexonne, said: "_Portus_." The book vibrated, glowed blue, and was still.

Sabine sat frozen on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. Realising that the girl was not going to move of her own accord, Ginny wrapped and arm around her back and pulled her off the bed. By necessity, the girl's feet found the floor, and she stumbled across the room to the desk.

"Hold onto me tightly, and we'll touch it at the same time, all right?"

Sabine nodded and slipped her arm around Ginny's waist in a nearly painful grip. Ginny could feel her trembling.

"On three: one, two, three."

With a jerking sensation behind her navel, Ginny disappeared from Lyon, Sabine in tow.

Miraculously they arrived on Farmer Frank's front porch just as Ginny had intended. Off balance from having to support her weight as well as Sabine's they both fell to their knees, but Ginny managed to keep them from collapsing altogether. Mrs. Farmer Frank heard them and rushed outside to see what all the fuss was about. She was a matronly woman with thick brown hair held back in a messy chignon and a printed apron with flour all over it.

She reminded Ginny so much of her mother that she nearly burst into tears.

"Ah!" she said in surprise. "What do we have here?"

"My name's Ginny – I'm a friend of Draco's, and this is Sabine Durant, Maurice's sister. We were attacked in Lyon and this was the only place I knew to bring her. Please, will you let us stay here a little while? At least until someone can fetch us?"

Mrs. Farmer Frank agreed with a hearty 'Bien sur!' and introduced herself as Eloise. She was astonished by Sabine's condition. "Take her straight upstairs – second door on the left. I'll put on a pot of tea."

Now recovered from the travel by Portkey, Sabine helped Ginny to carry herself up the stairs as best she could, but she was still weakened from two years of forced captivity. Eloise came up shortly and provided Sabine with a nightgown, which Ginny awkwardly helped her to don.

Again, her heart went out to the girl. Sabine's torso and legs were worse than her arms and face, and Ginny could count every rib. Sabine was unnaturally quiet, despite the pain she must have been in. Ginny felt extremely uncomfortable in her role as temporary caregiver and silently cursed Draco for not sending Maurice with his sister instead of her.

Thankfully, Eloise joined them once more, levitating a tray behind her. On it was not only a steaming cup of tea, as promised, but two glass phials. One was the easily recognisable dark green of a Pain Relieving potion, and the other was an electric blue Sleeping Draught. Ginny thought Eloise was brilliant. After seeing that Sabine was tucked snugly into bed with her tea, Eloise bustled off again, leaving the two teenagers alone.

Ginny stood at the foot of Sabine's bed for a good minute, watching the girl stare into her cup, completely unsure what she should do. She was terribly worried about everyone who had been left behind in Lyon and was distressed that she had no way of learning any information until she was contacted. On top of that, she was still totally freaked out by her ability's odd behaviour. What she really wanted were a few minutes to herself to try to think about things on a more rational level.

Without taking a single sip, Sabine set her cup on the bedside table and buried into the bed until only about half of her head was visible. "They're coming back," she whispered.

"Who's coming back?" Ginny asked, startled by the sudden speech.

"The memories… they keep flashing across my mind in bits in pieces."

Ginny thought of the vile potion that Sabine had been forced to drink. She was not completely sure, but it was possible that it was some sort of Memory Potion. The only problem with that theory was the fact that an Obliviate would have been easier and more effective. Unless they wanted her to remember eventually, which would have made the potion even more complicated since a time-control factor would need to be added. Ginny had always excelled at Potions, even under Snape's tyrannical tutelage, but was unfamiliar with the potion used on Sabine. She decided to talk to Draco about it when they had a moment.

Cautiously, Ginny sat on the edge of the bed so that she could see Sabine's face. "You're safe now. Whatever you're seeing will never happen again."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"I wish Maurice was here. I've missed him so much."

Ginny sighed. "I know, sweetie," she said in what she hoped was a soothing tone. "I'm sure Malfoy will bring him around as soon as he's able."

Sabine flinched. "Must I see him again? He looks just like-"

"I know," Ginny interrupted. "I know, but he is nothing like him, I swear to you. And your brother loves him. If you can't trust Draco, trust Maurice."

Sabine squeezed her eyes shut as though trying to not cry. "What's going to happen to me now? Will I be allowed to stay with Maurice?"

"I really don't know," Ginny replied. "But we'll keep you safe."

There was an awkward silence before Ginny's eyes lit upon the potions Eloise had provided. "Listen," she said, reaching for the Pain Reliving potion. "You've had a rough day. Why don't you take these and get some rest. I promise I'll send Maurice straight up when he gets here."

Sabine's face scrunched up. "What are they?"

"This one's for the pain, and the blue one is a Sleeping Draught."

"All right," she said after a moment's deliberation. "Where will you be?"

"Right here," Ginny replied. "If you need me just call, okay?"

Sabine nodded and then took a sip from the Pain Relieving potion, and, per Ginny's instructions, drained the Sleeping Draught. The dose was only large enough to keep her asleep for two, maybe three hours, but it would be enough. Hopefully, there will have been some word from Draco or Maurice by then.

Once Sabine was sleeping peacefully, Ginny made her way downstairs and out onto the front porch which stretched the entire face of the house. Eloise was busy in the house, and Farmer Frank was, presumably, out farming which left Ginny with her much desired solitude. At last she could let the morning catch up to her, analyse it all and pray to the gods that she could make some sense of it.

xXx

Two hours later Ginny had no qualms about admitting that she was in full-blown panic mode. Not only had she worked her brain into a frenzy over her annoyingly random and unpredictable visions, particularly what she had received from Sabine, but she had not heard from any of the Dragons at St. Gonlay or Lyon. She had even used her enchanted Sickle to attempt communications with Fiona but had received no reply. She kept telling herself that no-one knew where she was, but it was not really helping.

Yes, Ginny was freaking out spectacularly.

In her anxiety, she had paced a grassy line into the snow in front of the old farmhouse and had cracked her knuckles so many times that her fingers throbbed painfully. It was getting colder outside, being well past noon and now closer to the early autumn sunset, but she hardly noticed. Ginny was just about to dash inside and ask Eloise if she knew how to contact Les Dragons (hopefully Draco in particular) when she heard a whirling sound behind her.

Spinning around, Ginny was immensely relieved to see Draco there even if he did look like hell. His normally pale skin was white and deep purple bruises were rising on the right side of his face. A large swath of platinum hair just above his right ear was matted down with blood. The wound had bled profusely, blazing a wide scarlet path down his neck and staining the collar, shoulder, and chest of his blue oxford. Ginny could tell the bleeding had been staunched some time ago, but the injury had taken its toll on him. He seemed to be functioning by strength of will alone.

Ginny crossed to him in an instant and very nearly threw her arms around his neck. She managed to stop her body, but her mouth ran away with her.

"Gods in heaven, what happened to you? Are you all right? What took you so long? Why hasn't Fiona answered any of my messages?"

Draco, looking upset in a manner that unnerved her, dropped a hand on Ginny's shoulder, abruptly bringing her litany to a close. She didn't like what she saw in his stormy grey eyes.

"We don't know where Shepherd is, Weasley." His voice was flat and tired and far too old for someone his age.

Ginny stared at him in horror. Her blood was like ice water in her veins as she felt it drain from her face. "_What_?" she said in a choked whisper.

There was another whirling sound, this time to her left. Jean appeared next to them. His affable smile was notably absent.

"Ginny," Jean said, "I'm glad to see you're safe."

Ginny nodded mutely, still thunderstruck by Fiona's disappearance. It was all her fault. She never should have allowed Fiona to come to France with her. She should have been there to fight by her friend's side. She was angry with Draco for not giving her that option but could not find the motivation to give him what-for. Ginny would never be able to forgive herself if something happened to Fiona.

Draco shook her shoulder. "Weasley. _Ginny_."

Ginny shook her head, snapping herself out of her trance. Apparently, Draco and Jean had been trying to ask her something. "Huh?"

"Where's Sabine?" Jean asked.

"Upstairs sleeping," she replied. "Second door on the left."

"Thank you," Jean said, heading for the front door.

Ginny looked at Draco, thinking it odd that he had brought Jean to fetch Sabine and not Maurice. She swallowed hard. "Tell me everything."

Draco sighed and ran a hand through what hair wasn't soaked with blood. "After you left a lot of things happened at once. Luc and Roland returned to help get everyone out, Adrienne joined us, and the rear of the house was breached."

Ginny had known that the back of the house had been damaged in an explosion but had assumed that Fiona and Maurice had still had things under control. She began cracking her knuckles again.

"I was hit by a spell through one of the parlour windows," he gestured to the wound on his skull, "and was knocked unconscious. Ellen Portkeyed the two of us back to headquarters." His tone was bitter as he said this but not at Ellen. He was angry with himself for allowing himself to be removed so effectively from the fight before it was finished.

Ginny was very glad that Ellen had been there for Draco. Merlin only knew what might have happened if she hadn't been.

"According to Maurice and Adrienne," Draco continued, "the house flooded with Enforcers from both sides. Luc was taken and Adrienne Portkeyed away with Maurice, not realising that neither Shepherd nor Roland had their own Portkeys."

Ginny was feeling a bit nauseous. "Please, tell me she wasn't captured."

Draco shook his head. "Not as far as we can tell."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Thomas has had his ear to the ground since Sabine turned up this morning, and a contact of his in the Department of Magical Transportation says that right about the time Adrienne and Maurice left Lyon via Portkey that there was an unauthorised Apparition from an alien signature to just outside of Beaurieux."

Ginny frowned, seeing where Draco was going. Adrienne had explained to her why Les Dragons always travelled either by broom or by Portkey: the French Ministry kept strict tabs on all of its citizens, namely through Apparition licenses which were tagged with each licensee's magical signature. If someone who was unlicensed Apparated into or out of France, they knew about it. The Department of Magical Transportation monitored this and could pinpoint the exact location of Apparition within a matter of minutes. Les Dragons had been working on a way around this but had thus far been unsuccessful.

"Fiona," Ginny whispered. "I thought you said you didn't know where she was."

"We don't. By the time our team got there, there wasn't anyone to be found except a lone Enforcer keeping guard should they return. They're still out there looking, but I haven't received an update in over half an hour."

"What about Maurice? Why didn't he come for Sabine?" Ginny said.

"He took a handful of volunteers and went looking for her and Roland. They'd Portkeyed to Lyon together, and he feels terrible that he left her behind."

Ginny was about to inquire after Draco's own well-being, but Jean emerged from the house carrying a still-sleeping Sabine. The small girl looked half her age, unconsciously huddled up against Jean's chest as she was.

"I'm going," he said.

Ginny saw a faint blue light escaping through his clenched fist from his time-activated Portkey, and he vanished. For an interminably long moment, Draco and Ginny stared at each other. His expression was unreadable, and she was sure that hers was quite the opposite. If her face was any reflection of the thoughts and emotions swirling about in her head then she probably looked half-mad.

This was truly the first moment she'd had alone with Draco since their quite, early morning vigil four days ago, but all of the questions she had wanted answers to suddenly seemed incredibly unimportant. War had reared its ugly, vicious head again, making everything but the safety of their comrades a moot point.

"What now?" Ginny asked, hating how afraid she sounded.

"Now we go back. If there's any news to be had, that's where we'll get it."

Then Draco offered her his hand which she took without thinking. The warmth of his skin on her freezing, throbbing hand was comforting. Draco opened his free hand and tossed the silver disk up into the air. When he caught it, they left Pexonne behind and arrived to a chaotic scene at headquarters. Ginny was nearly ploughed over by a harried and preoccupied Dragon and was saved only by Draco yanking her out of the way. She was _very_ close to him.

Draco did not seem to have noticed. He grabbed the young man by his bicep, halting him in his tracks. It was Alex.

"Sorry," the young wizard apologised.

"What's all this about?" Draco demanded. "I've been gone five minutes, and I come back to this uproar? Where's Adrienne?"

Alex gestured to a man-sized bundle wrapped in a black cloak laid out near the log on the far side of the clearing. "An Enforcer arrived by Portkey just after you left. We're lucky Adrienne was still out here to make sure he didn't escape."

"By Portkey?" Ginny asked. St. Gonlay was an unknown locale to the French government; it would have been impossible for them to create a Portkey to bring them here.

"It must have been Luc's," Draco reasoned. "Where's Adrienne?"

"She's inside trying to keep the chaos to a minimum," Alex answered.

Draco thanked and dismissed Alex, who walked off behind the cabin to complete whatever task he'd been set.

Not even bothering to secure her attention this time, Draco began dragging Ginny across the clearing. Her eyes never left the Enforcer bundle that had been placed far too close to the log – her log – for her to be all right with it. She wanted to see his face but couldn't seem to let loose of Draco's hand.

In what seemed to be the blink of an eye, they were in Draco's office. He sat her down in his chair just as Adrienne emerged from the secret Portkey cache beneath the house. Ginny had been out of her mind wondering what happened to everyone while she was at Pexonne, but now that everything was happening so fast all she could think was that Fiona was missing and she was sitting in a comfortable leather chair in relative safety.

"Draco, you're back," Adrienne said, looking relieved and impatient all at once. "The Enforcer outside is a Death Eater; he is still alive if you wish to question him. I have already asked him where Luc is, but he refused to answer. Now that you're here I'd like to begin searching for him."

"What's all the chaos about?"

"I set a group to reinforcing some of the defences and preparing for an attack. I didn't know what to expect or when you would return."

"Have you had any word from Maurice?"

Adrienne shook her head grimly. "No."

Draco looked disappointed. "Thank you," he said dismissively. "Let me know immediately if you find Luc."

Adrienne nodded and rushed out the door, leaving them alone. She didn't spare even a single glance for Ginny. Draco perched on the edge of his desk and leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. He stared at her sternly while she pointedly avoided his gaze. Ginny wasn't ready for an inquisition.

"I want you to tell me _exactly_ what happened in Lyon," he ordered.

Ginny balked. "Can't this wait for later?"

"This is later, Weasley, so out with it."

Glaring at him, she said, "There were Death Eaters, the Tracking Charm and the potion. That's all."

Was it even necessary that Draco know his father was involved? She could certainly do with out the knowledge; surely Draco would be better off without it as well. She knew that she wouldn't want to know if her father was involved in something like the kidnap and torture of a thirteen year old girl.

Placing his palms on the edge of the desk, Draco leaned towards her until his face was very close to hers. Their eyes locked; Draco was searching hers for something while Ginny was simply refusing to be intimidated by his presence.

"You're lying," he stated. "What aren't you telling me?"

Ginny rose with a huff, barely avoiding bashing their heads together. She wondered how he knew. Was it something she'd said or done, or was Draco one of those people who just always _knew_? Ginny suspected the latter. Damn him.

Draco had yet to alter his expression like he knew if he stared at her long enough she'd spill her guts.

Needing to put some space between them, Ginny went around the other side of the desk and took a couple of deep breaths. She considered stalling, beating around the bush until they ended up in an argument or until Draco grew tired of her evasions and left the topic for later discussion, but she really didn't feel like dealing with the extra stress that going a round with Draco inevitably brought on. Now was not the time for division. They needed to be on the same page, and Ginny did not want to lose the small amount of trust she'd managed to earn.

"Your father oversaw Sabine's captivity. He ordered the Tracking Charm to be cast and the potion to be administered." Ginny shuddered, remembering.

If she had been expecting some sort of emotional eruption from Draco, she was disappointed. It was all rather anti-climactic.

Draco's face became hard and a muscle in his jaw twitched. His eyes went unfocussed for a moment like he was staring through Ginny into another dimension. "I expected as much," he said stiffly.

Ginny was dumbfounded. "That's it? I tell you your father's been kidnapping and torturing children and that's all you have to say?"

Pushing himself off the desk, Draco crossed to Ginny until they were about a hand's breadth apart. "I hate to break it to you, Weasley, but my father has been kidnapping and torturing children – and Muggles, Muggle-borns, or anyone who stood in his way – for a very long time. You'll have to forgive me for coming to expect these sorts of things from him."

Suddenly, Ginny felt something for Draco Malfoy that she had never anticipated and was completely unprepared for: pity. What must his childhood have been like, she wondered. Was Lucius as cold and uncaring in the privacy of his own home as he was in public? Was Narcissa truly as vain and detached as she appeared?

Ginny remembered the vision she'd had of her and Draco by the brook, even though she'd been pointedly avoiding it for some time. Draco had said that no-one had ever told him they loved him before. Had he meant romantically or literally?

As these thoughts raced through Ginny's head, she studied every nuance of his countenance and expression; every line, every curve, every shadow. Finally, she said, "He's the reason you're doing this."

It was not a question, and Draco knew it. For a moment his collected façade fell to the floor and shattered before he hastily put the pieces back together again.

"We're not having this discussion. My motives are my own." He changed the subject. "Was there anything else?"

"Nothing that can't wait," Ginny replied, slightly taken aback by Draco's demeanour. She hadn't meant to hit a nerve; it had just popped out of her mouth.

He was about to press her when there was a knock at the door. Before Draco could admit or dismiss the caller, Alex entered, looking excited.

"They're back," he said.

xXx/b

It was well past sunset, and the oil lamp on the table between the two beds was shining brightly. Ginny was sitting in a chair she'd conjured, watching over Fiona and Roland, who'd been placed in her bed, as they slept a potion-induced sleep. Ginny herself was bone-weary but had too much on her mind to even so much as doze.

The half hour that had followed the return of Maurice, Fiona, Roland, and two other Dragons had been a bit mad. Maurice had arrived first, dragging a half-conscious Fiona across the clearing. She had received some minor spellfire and had dislocated her shoulder again but had really been more exhausted than anything.

Roland had been in much worse condition. Not only had he been hit with a particularly nasty curse, but he had broken a handful of ribs and splinched off the littlest finger of his right hand somewhere along the line. Neither had yet been coherent enough to give a full account of their story.

Ginny, Julie, Ellen, and Daniel, who had volunteered for the search and rescue, did their best to manage until a nurse could make it to headquarters. The task of relocating Fiona's shoulder fell to Ginny and Daniel while Ellen, who had just begun the Healer Training Program prior to her exile, did her best to stall the curse's progress, despite not knowing what it was. Julie pretty much did whatever had been required of her and had been a huge help.

Draco had lent his hand in the beginning but left when Thomas arrived a few minutes later. Ginny heard none of their hushed conversation, but Draco had worn that same closed, stony expression as when Ginny had informed him of Lucius' involvement. She hadn't seen him since.

Not having heard the door open, Ginny was nearly startled out of her chair when a hand fell on her shoulder. It was Ellen.

"Shite, you scared me," Ginny said beneath her breath.

Ellen offered a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's all right. Any news?"

Ellen shook her head. "Sabine's memories were a bit overwhelming, so we had to sedate her, and Adrienne hasn't returned yet."

Ginny nodded silently in acceptance. She hoped Adrienne was having some luck finding Luc.

"Why don't you take a break," Ellen said. "I'll watch over them."

Sighing, Ginny acquiesced. Ellen was right. She'd been sitting there for Merlin only knew how long and was tired and hungry, having missed both lunch and supper. Ginny vacated the chair for Ellen.

"Let me know if anything changes." Ginny stopped at the door. "Thank you – for everything you did today. You were brilliant."

Ellen blushed at Ginny's praise. "I'm glad I could help."

The corridors were lit but quiet; it seemed most of the Dragons at St. Gonlay had turned in early. Ginny made a bee-line for the basement and quickly descended the first flight of stairs. She was about to enter the dining hall when she noticed light seeping into the stairwell from beneath the training room door one level below.

Her hunger forgotten, Ginny slowly descended to the bottom. As she drew near, muffled voices could be heard. When she reached for the door knob, the door was flung open.

"…I'll take care of him in the morning."

Draco had his head turned back over his shoulder and was issuing a final order to whomever else was in the room. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows and there was blood on his hands and spatter peppering his shirt.

But Ginny was hardly focussed on him. Her eyes were glued to the man bound to a chair in the centre of the room. Not only had he been thoroughly worked over, but she immediately recognised him as the Death Eater who forced Sabine to drink the potion.

Ginny gagged.

Draco noticed. He looked disgusted and embarrassed before forcing his way past her and up the stairs. The basement door slammed above a moment later.

Moving into the room, Ginny saw with whom Draco had been speaking. Jacques from Beaurieux was there as well as another Dragon that she did not know. They watched her with anxious eyes as though they expected her to explode at any moment.

She continued walking until she was standing directly in front of the Death Eater. His head lolled to one side at an unnatural angle, and a vindictive voice inside of her said 'Good'.

"Is he alive?" she asked.

"Barely," the unknown man replied.

"Pity." She looked up at Jacques, who had a stunned expression on his face. "There's a small river near here. Do you know where?"

He nodded. "South, through the woods."

"I don't care what Draco said; clean this up," she said, gesturing to the blood. "Put him where he won't be found."

Without another word, Ginny took off after Draco.

xXx

Wand lit, Ginny went as quickly as was possible through the woods. Fortunately Draco had left boot prints in the snow, and it was more a matter of not falling and killing herself than actually finding him.

The brook was farther from the cabin than she realised. It took her nearly ten minutes to reach it; although, it may have taken less time in broad daylight. At last, Ginny broke through the trees. Along the bank, the trees were bare, unlike the conifers surrounding headquarters, allowing the waxing moon to reflect off the water like a swath of quicksilver carving a path through the forest.

Draco was on his knees a couple of steps into the water as though he'd stumbled there. His shirt had been discarded on the bank, and he was bent over, furiously scrubbing his hands and arms with fistfuls of dirt from the riverbed.

Ginny had been in a hurry to catch up to Draco, but when she saw him she stopped and watched him for a moment before proceeding cautiously. She felt as though she were intruding on some private moment but could not seem to make herself turn around and go back to where she came from.

When she stood but a few steps away, Ginny's feet finally ceased dragging her forward. Draco had yet to notice her; he was totally absorbed in his task, in washing away all traces of his deeds. He was frenzied, panicked almost, and was shaking violently from the frigid water swirling around his hips.

Ginny could feel the difference in his aura. If she were to place this Draco next to the Draco who had interrogated her earlier that afternoon she doubted there would be any resemblance at all. He was exposed, vulnerable, _human_. She had never imagined witnessing such a powerful display of emotions from the infamously callous Draco Malfoy and doubted anyone else had either.

Too bad she would never breathe a word of it to another living soul as long as she lived.

Ginny dropped her wand on the ground, kicked off her trainers and tugged her jumper over her head, leaving it all in a heap at her feet. She shivered in the cold night air, wishing she had more than a t-shirt on and not really looking forward to being soaking wet. She waded out to him, dropped to her knees, and caught Draco's hands before he even realised she was there.

Startled, he jerked his hands back, looking like a deer caught in headlights, but Ginny held on tightly.

"Draco, stop," she said quietly.

Draco stared at her and visibly attempted to collect himself. "What are you doing here?" he snapped.

"I might ask you the same thing," she replied evenly.

He jerked his hands again. "That's none of your business."

Ginny didn't release him. "I'm making it my business."

Draco's shoulders slumped resignedly. "What do you want from me, Weasley?" he asked, shaking his head. "I don't know what to do with you. I feel like you're staring straight into my head when you look at me. You unnerve me."

Ginny found the idea of _her_ unnerving _him_ completely laughable. He was the one who made her feel tense and observed and totally in the dark. He was so aloof and in control; Ginny lived in the moment and improvised just about everything. She didn't have any idea what she was doing.

"I unnerve myself sometimes," she replied.

There was a long pause where Draco looked away and they both just knelt in the river, shivering but not really noticing it. Ginny stared at his jaw, watching him grind his teeth while he battled whichever demon was rearing its ugly head this evening. She suspected it was directly linked to the Death Eater in the basement.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," he said at last. He looked at her with haunted eyes. "I just…" He struggled for the words for a moment. "I don't see what makes me any different from him anymore."

"Your father," Ginny stated. She should have known this was the root of Draco's turmoil.

"I have his face, his name, his blood." Draco turned his left arm over and looked down, drawing Ginny's gaze. The Dark Mark stood out starkly on his moon-pale skin.

Her breath caught. She hadn't noticed it before. Harry had been positive that Draco had had the Mark, but no-one at Hogwarts had ever seen it. This was the first time she had seen the dark tattoo up close, and it was even more terrible than she imagined.

"His legacy," Draco continued bitterly. "I'll steal; I've killed and tortured… does it even matter why anymore?"

Gently, Ginny brushed her fingertips over the Dark Mark. When Draco flinched, she looked up to meet his eyes again. She could feel the internal war Draco fought against himself; the war between what was right and wrong and what was necessary. The lines had become so blurred as to be nearly non-existent.

Was it always like this in times like theirs? she wondered. Did the good always suffer while the bad committed the same acts with a gleeful lack of remorse? What kind of world did they live in?

"The fact that you're even asking shows you're not like him, Draco. Your father takes pleasure in doing the things that tear you apart inside. That _man,"_ she spat, "in the basement has gotten as good as he's given tonight – but he relished it while the first thing you did was try to wash it away. You have a conscience, so you cannot be them. And the why _always_ matters."

Draco stared at her in wonderment.

"What?" she asked, slightly uncomfortably.

"I just didn't expect you to say that," he replied.

"What? Did you think I'd spit on you? Condemn you? Abandon you?" she asked incredulously. The thought had never once crossed her mind.

Draco's silence was answer enough.

Tentatively, Ginny brushed his fringe out of his eyes and let her hand slide around to cup his cheek. His skin was so soft; she could have spent forever just caressing his face.

As she let her hand drop, Draco caught her wrist, holding it in place, and turned his face into her touch. A wave of butterflies ripped through her body at full speed, leaving her a little dizzy, and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears.

"The cost of this war is turning out to be more than anyone anticipated, and it's us who've been stuck with the tab," she managed to choke out around the lump in her throat. "Why would I blame you for picking up more than your fair share?"

Draco's grip on her wrist became almost painful like it was the only thing keeping him from just drifting away. Emboldened by his reaction, Ginny ran her other hand through his hair before sliding it around his neck and pulling him into a tight embrace. To her extreme astonishment, Draco did not resist her at all. In fact, he fairly melted into her, wrapping both arms around her and very nearly squeezing the air out of her lungs.

Draco was full of surprises, and Ginny felt privileged to be allowed to see this side of him.

She held him just as tightly, not knowing what had inspired her to do so in the first place. Nor had she known that she needed the contact just as much as he apparently did. To say that the day had been taxing would be an extreme understatement. There was also a part of her that was dancing on the inside at how bloody _right_ it felt to be held by him.

"What are you doing to me?" Draco whispered in her ear as he pulled away.

A chill chased up Ginny's spine. What was she doing to him? She hadn't a clue, but she suspected that, if it was in any way similar to the effect he was having on her, her original intention to remain romantically disentangled from him was going to circle the drain at an alarming rate.

Even through her t-shirt Draco's hands on her waist made her skin tingle, and his face was only centimetres away. His eyes darted to her lips and back up to meet her gaze. If Ginny's heart had been racing before, it was positively out of control now.

"Nothing intentional, I assure you," Ginny replied breathlessly.

"What do you want from me?"

Did he just lean closer? Ginny closed her eyes and swallowed hard. The fact that she would let him kiss her if he tried was almost as astounding as the possibility that it might actually happen.

"Haven't the foggiest."

Yes, he definitely leant closer this time. One of Draco's hands left Ginny's waist to brush some of her hair behind her shoulder, giving him better access to her face. Then he hooked a finger beneath her chin and tilted it upward.

"Ginny."

She opened her eyes, and they focussed on his lips. They were so close… all he had to do was tilt his head just so…

A twig snapping from the woods behind Draco had his wand drawn from his trouser pocket and aimed at the unseen interloper before Ginny even had a chance to realise that they hadn't kissed.

Her head was spinning, but she still had enough sense to realise that she'd left her wand with her jumper on shore. Swearing beneath her breath, Ginny moved so Draco hid her from view and reached into the water searching for a rock – at least she'd have something with which to defend herself. When her hand closed over a stone the size of a Snitch, she pulled it from the water and held it loosely, completely prepared to throw it the first opportunity she had.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Adrienne said in a tone that suggested quite the opposite. She stepped from a shadow and walked a little closer to Ginny and Draco.

Draco was quite obviously annoyed. "What is it Adrienne?" he asked, stowing his wand.

"I've found Luc," she said.

Was that dread Ginny heard in the other woman's voice?

"Where?" demanded Draco, standing up and dragging Ginny with him. They began wading back to land.

Ginny was still a bit dazed by what had almost happened but was impressed by Draco's recovery time. She'd have to work on hers.

"Procrustes."

"Fuck," Draco swore, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, that doesn't sound promising," Ginny said, retrieving her wand. She dried her clothes and Draco's before stepping quickly into her trainers. She did not at all like the looks on their faces. "Where is it?"

"About fifteen kilometres into the Atlantic ocean, approximately two underwater, and it makes Azkaban look like a day spa."

"Bugger," Ginny said, wondering if they were ever going to get a moment's peace.


	10. Public Enemies

**Ahhhhh! I can't belive I'm updating. Neither can you, for that matter ;) Thank you to Bree for the quick beta, and to everyone who has so patiently awaited this next installment. **

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**Chapter 10: Public Enemies**

**Thursday, 13 November**

Ginny dreamt about Lucius Malfoy. The dream did not seem to have a point, only the vague swirl of faces, buildings and colours in the background and his arrogant face twisted in a mocking sneer. It was so indistinct that when she finally startled herself awake she was unsure whether or not it was a vision or just a regular dream. What she was sure of, however, was the horrid feeling in her gut. He had that effect on people.

"What are you doing on the floor, girlie?" Fiona mumbled blearily from her bed.

Bewildered, Ginny glanced around. She was indeed on the floor, toppled chair behind her and her blanket in an uncomfortable heap beneath her.

"Bad dream," Ginny offered distractedly.

"Dream or vision?"

Ginny shrugged before climbing to her feet, righting the chair and plopping down into it. Her arse hurt from sitting in it all night. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," Fiona replied impatiently. "And don't change the subject. You don't know or you don't want to talk about it?"

"Er, both?"

Ginny rubbed her face roughly with her hands to banish any remaining sleepiness, but what she really needed was coffee – preferably in intravenous form. She had been up most of the night with Draco and Adrienne, helping them to plan some sort of rescue for Luc. She did not really have much to contribute; she just wanted to stay with Draco.

It was also immensely gratifying to know that her mere presence was aggravating the hell out of Adrienne.

Fiona's stomach rumbled angrily. She giggled. "So, what's a girl gotta do to get some food around here?"

Ginny smiled. "I knew you'd make a full recovery. I'll go get us something."

Fiona stuck her tongue out and ducked as Ginny threw her blanket at her. "Hey! Be kind to the invalid!"

Ginny snorted. "Invalid my arse."

Just then there was a soft knock on the door and Maurice entered, carefully balancing a tray of food in one hand. A big, stupid grin spread across his face when he saw that Fiona was finally awake.

"Good morning. I brought you guys some food," he said, moving into the room.

"Thank you," Ginny said hastily as she jumped out of her chair. "But you two eat; I need to stretch my legs anyway." Then she dashed into the hallway and closed the door behind her before either of them could protest or invite her to stay. Being a third wheel sucked.

Content with her humble match-making abilities, Ginny walked down to the dining hall to get breakfast. She hadn't eaten since the previous morning, and was quite famished. There were two other people in the canteen with whom she might have eaten, but Ginny wanted some quiet time before she began interacting with the human race, so she grabbed two croissants and a cup of coffee and sat by herself. Someone had left the morning's paper discarded in the seat she happened to choose, which she decided to peruse, more to distract her brain from Draco's psychopathic father than to enrich her knowledge and understanding of the world.

She was not at all surprised, however, to see that Les Dragons Blancs had made the front page with their debacle at Lyon the day before. The story was incredibly stilted, of course, and not at all accurate, which was also unsurprising. The article pretty much said that Les Dragons attacked a house in a Muggle neighbourhood in Lyon before leading Enforcers on an Apparition chase across the country. They apprehended one fugitive, Luc Bolieau, who was being held at an undisclosed location until his trial.

Ginny snorted at the thought of what _that_ trial would be like.

The paper contained nothing more of consequence, until a photograph in the bottom left-hand corner of the second to last page caught her eye. It was of Fiona and herself, taken after a Quidditch match the year before. They were both covered in mud and grinning like idiots, having just beaten Slytherin rather soundly. Ginny smiled at the memory, despite the fact that this sort of exposure, however minor, was potentially problematic. The last thing Ginny needed was to be spotted and shipped back to England, _after _Death Eaters tortured her for information. Or worse.

The article was short and, thankfully, not really about Fiona or Ginny. True, she was mentioned – apparently her mother had been raising seven kinds of hell since she left – but the journalist seemed to take more pleasure from ridiculing English schooling and its obvious lack of security than reporting on two missing girls.

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief, but thought the article worth mentioning to Draco nonetheless. She folded up the paper and checked her watch.

"Damn," she swore, swallowing the remnants of her coffee in one large gulp. It was after nine. Adrienne and Thomas should have been back by now, along with their assembled team and, as was the goal, Luc.

Ginny ran through the house to Draco's office. Immediately upon entering she noted three things: he hadn't slept, Adrienne had not, in fact, returned, and he was grinding his teeth. Otherwise he might have looked perfectly relaxed in his chair, staring at the wall. Carefully, Ginny shut the door behind her and walked around to sit facing him on the edge of his desk. Draco did not even blink.

"Nothing?" Ginny asked quietly.

"What do you think, Weasley?" Draco snapped. Without looking at her, he stood up to stand at the window overlooking the side yard.

It was with a Herculean effort that Ginny bit her tongue. She followed him to the window. "What do we do next?"

"I don't have a clue," Draco admitted with difficulty. "This wasn't part of the plan."

Ginny had just opened her mouth to respond when there was a heavy thump on the door followed by someone fighting with the door knob. Instead, Ginny rolled her eyes, pulled out her wand and opened the door.

Stephen fell ungracefully into the room. Anxiously, he stood, brushed his crumpled robes and straightened his skewed glasses. Stephen was a whiz with charms and gadgets, but not so good with the basics, like walking in a straight line and opening doors. It was a miracle he managed to dress himself successfully.

"What is it?" Draco snapped irritably.

"Ah, yes, thank you," he thanked Ginny distractedly, as he walked to a cabinet just behind and to the right of Draco's desk. There was a Wizarding Wireless on the second shelf; he switched it on.

"There's something I think you need to hear."

Ginny and Draco both listened in stunned silence as a delicate female voice announced that just before dawn that morning six members of the terrorist faction, Les Dragons Blancs, were captured during a failed attempt to rescue their comrade, Luc Bolieau, who had been apprehended the night before. Among those arrested were the notorious Adrienne Clarke and the previously unidentified spy, simply known as 'Thomas'.

All six would be transferred at an undisclosed time and location to Procrustes that very same day.

Stephen clicked off the Wireless and stood awkwardly watching Draco and Ginny.

Ginny was in shock, trying to figure out what could have happened. Thomas had managed to retrieve – Merlin only knew how – floor plans to the prison, and the four of them together had planned the best course of action. True, it was a dangerous mission, but their exit strategy had been purposefully designed to allow them escape at _any_ time. How had they all been captured?

Draco cleared his throat. "Thank you, Stephen," he said tightly. "Try to find out when and where."

"Not a problem," he said, and hurried away.

Ginny gaped at Draco in wonder. He was so calm. She was a little queasy.

Draco went to his desk and began shifting through the papers piled there. They were the blueprints for the prison that Thomas had acquired.

"What are you looking for?" Ginny asked.

"These aren't just the blueprints for Procrustes," Draco replied distractedly. "There might be something useful here once we find out where the transfer will be taking place."

"Draco, what exactly are you planning to do?"

Without answering her, Draco rolled up the floor plans and opened the secret panel to the Portkey cache. Ginny chased him down the stairs. She'd be damned if he thought he was going anywhere without her.

"Draco?"

He walked to the end of the row and around the corner, and pulled a box off of the shelf. He stuffed a handful of Portkeys in his trouser pocket.

"We," he said, "are going to Paris."

_We._ Ginny almost smiled. "What's in Paris?"

"Oh, lots of things," he said, walking past her and continuing up the stairs. "The Eiffel Tower, Sacre Coeur, Notre Dame, l'Arc de Triomphe – the Prime Minister's offices."

They were in the corridor now.

"What are you planning to do?"

"We'll get to that later. Where's Maurice?"

"My room, with Fiona."

"Good. I need you to put together a small team to bring with us. We don't have many stationed in Paris, so we'll need to bring reinforcements with us. Tell them all to bring a set of robes and their broom, if they have one."

"Anyone in particular you want me to ask?"

They had just reached Ginny's room. Since she needed to gather her belongings and Draco needed to speak with Maurice, she swung the door wide open. She was three whole steps into the room before she realised that Maurice was seated on the side of Fiona's bed, breakfast untouched. They were snogging most enthusiastically.

Ginny froze, Draco cleared his throat, and Maurice literally threw himself off of the bed. Fiona's face was beet red, her mouth agape in surprise and embarrassment.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," Ginny squeaked.

Feeling like an arse, she rushed to her trunk and grabbed her broom, harness, cloak and a clean set of robes. She stuffed it all into her knapsack and hurried out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Ginny closed her eyes and caught her breath, not realising she'd lost it.

"I should have seen that one coming a mile away," she muttered.

Ginny looked at Draco who hastily averted his gaze, a pinkish tint colouring his cheeks. He looked distinctly uncomfortable. Was it possible the kiss they'd almost shared the night before had been more than a moment of weakness? Ginny did not quite know how she felt about that.

Draco cleared his throat again, but still wouldn't meet her gaze. "Get Ellen," he suggested. "She handled herself quite well yesterday. Anyone else I leave entirely up to your discretion."

"Right. Yes. Okay," Ginny said, realising she'd been staring at Draco's lips.

"We'll leave from the clearing in ten minutes."

Ginny nodded and rushed off, wondering if she'd let him kiss her if he tried to again, and chastising herself for thinking about snogging Malfoy when there were lives at risk.

Ginny never imagined her first trip to Paris would include taking lodgings in a run-down warehouse in a bad part of the city. Les Dragons had acquired it through Muggle means, so the building was totally off-grid for it, but other than a Muggle Repellent Charm, there were no concealments in place, whatsoever. Being this close to the enemy's headquarters made it too dangerous to use any of the more potent charms.

Ginny had selected Ellen, Alex, and Daniel, all three of whom were more than willing. Jacques, who had spent the night in St. Gonlay rather than return to Beaurieux, had volunteered at once when he overheard Ginny explaining the situation to Ellen. Finally, she had recruited a young woman of about twenty named Yvette and her friend Fabrice. Yvette had had to talk him into coming, but he agreed in the end, if only to watch his friend's back.

Precisely ten minutes later they all Portkeyed to the ground level of the rather large warehouse. All along the walls were crate stacked upon crate of Merlin only knew what. The boxes were labelled in what looked like Russian, so Ginny could only guess at their contents.

The middle of the room looked like a monstrous cross between a Potions' lab, a Muggle science lab, her dad's workshop in the shed, and a firing range.

"Where the hell are we?" Ginny asked, looking around in awe. She'd never seen anything like it in her life.

"We have arrived at the humble abode of a pair of sociopaths I have affectionately dubbed the Technicolor Twins."

"Huh?"

"You'll see," Draco said with a smirk.

Ginny's ears suddenly rang with the sharp, metallic protestations of the very old, poorly-maintained lift which was descending from the second floor. Before the industrial-style lift even hit the floor, the door and grate were thrown open and an extremely skinny, anaemic-looking girl wearing a long-sleeved black mesh top over a pink tank, a denim miniskirt, and lime green leggings slipped out. She landed with the heavy thud of combat boots on concrete and ran across the room to Draco. Grape coloured liberty spikes and a studded leather collar completed the ensemble.

She was definitely in Technicolor.

"Draco, darling!" she sang in heavily accented English. The Russian on the crates was making sense now. "It's been ages! Where have you been?"

"Everywhere and nowhere," he replied, exchanging kisses on the cheeks. "Irina, this is Ginny. She'll be helping plan the extraction."

Ginny smiled and shook the girl's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Irina said. "You're English."

"Er, yes. Draco and I went to school together," Ginny added, not really knowing what else to say.

"Interesting." Irina threw Draco a suggestive smirk coupled with a raised eyebrow that Ginny would have had to have been blindfolded to miss.

"This is Daniel, Alex, and Ellen," Draco broke in before Irina said anything that would likely embarrass the both of them. "Yvette and Fabrice are the two hanging out in the back there, and I believe you've met Jacques before."

Irina and Jacques shook hands and exchanged hellos. She spoke French well, but with as much of an accent as her English. Now that introductions were made, Irina offered to bring them up to the rooms that had been prepared on the second floor, and told them that the lift, despite appearances, was perfectly safe. Ellen brought Ginny's things up while she stayed with Draco.

"What is this place?" Ginny asked, looking around the huge room.

"Experimental weapons research," Draco replied. He spotted a relatively clear table and unrolled the blueprints he'd brought, using various things on the table to hold the corners down. "Irina and Ilya have extensive training with all manner of Muggle weapons. They've been here for almost a year trying to magically enhance all sorts of things to use against the Ministry. They're borderline extremists."

Judging by the size of their arsenal, Ginny had little trouble doubting it. "So, where did you find them?"

Draco snorted. "I wouldn't exactly say that I _found_ them so much as they made our acquaintance unavoidable."

Ginny arched an eyebrow, begging him to explain.

"How's your History of Magic?"

"Eh. Shite. What has that got to do with anything?"

"Well, when the French Muggles had their Revolution, so did the Wizards. There were two wars occurring at the same time in the same place and for the same essential reasons. At one point towards the end of the Wizarding Revolution, the rebels burned the Ministry building to the ground. After that, they made sure that all of the different departments were given their own buildings in their own cities and that the heads of each department only convened a handful of times a month."

"The Department of Magical Transportation is in Marseille," Irina interrupted behind them. How she'd managed to sneak up on them was a mystery. "We grafitti'd it and then blew off the roof. It was fucking awesome."

"It was certainly attention-grabbing," Draco said moderately. Irina rolled her blue eyes. "But the important part was the graffiti: Vive la Révolution! The rest was a coded message giving us an address at which to find them that took me three days to crack."

Ginny didn't really know what to say, so she stuck to staring incredulously back and forth between Draco and Irina. 'Extremist' might have been an understatement. After a moment or two of awkward silence, she cleared her throat and asked: "So, what part of the Ministry is here in Paris?"

"The Prime Minister and his staff have their offices here, along with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, for protection," Draco answered.

"And you think that's where they are being held?" Ginny asked, referring to their captured comrades.

"I'm quite certain of it, actually," Draco replied, studying the blueprints. "I'm just waiting for confirmation.

"Where's Ilya?" he asked Irina.

"He went to meet one of our contacts in Romania yesterday. We needed brimstone and fresh dragon's blood. He should be back this afternoon."

"Good." Draco turned to Ginny. "As soon as we have a verified location, you and Ilya are going to scout the area. I need every last detail."

Ginny stared at Draco until he met her gaze. She was thrilled at his automatic inclusion of her, but that uneasy feeling the morning's dream had given her had not dissipated in the least. On the contrary, it had increased with every new turn of events.

"You must see that this is a trap, Draco."

"I'm counting on it," he said, very seriously.

"Then how do you know that Adrienne and Thomas will even be there? What's to say that they're not being held at Procrustes where they were caught?"

"Because the Ministry knows that they have a mole somewhere, and they more than likely suspect that the mole is an Enforcer. They know that we will ultimately discover where they're truly being held, just like they know we'll try to make another rescue attempt.

"From the Ministry's point of view, it's a win-win situation. They flush out a traitor and catch more of us at the same time."

"Assuming they're not expecting us to figure it out," Ginny persisted.

"You know nothing of French arrogance," Irina said. "It will not allow them to think that a rag-tag bunch of adolescents and Muggle-borns could ever out-manoeuvre them." Irina smiled a slow, predatory smile. "Besides, they don't know what tricks we have up our sleeves. Wanna see?"

Ginny decided right then that Irina was most likely one of the single most unnerving individuals she had ever met, and that was saying something.

It was past noon before they received any sort of confirmation, and Ginny spent the time absorbing a crash course in Muggle weaponry from Irina. The Russian girl had even taught Ginny how to fire one of the smaller weapons, saying it never hurt to know how to use anything, even if it was Muggle. Ginny wasn't sure how she felt about the awkward, metal things, but she had to admit that some of the modifications were down-right brilliant.

In fact, the more she learned, the more Irina and her brother reminded her of Fred and George: Both sets of twins were well skilled in the art of wreaking havoc. The only difference was Fred and George's goal in life was to help as many kids skive off classes and harass Filch as was possible, while Irina and Ilya aimed to dismantle a tyrannical government. Fred and George might have argued there was little difference.

Maurice arrived in a hurry at one-fifteen that afternoon to tell Draco that Stephen had duly confirmed the time and location: six p.m. at the south entrance of the Enforcers' building. There was an Apparition point two blocks away, the only one. Draco was pleased by this, and reminded Ginny of what he wanted her to do before leaving with Maurice, promising to be back as soon as possible.

Ilya returned on foot ten minutes later, carrying a large metal case and a leather satchel that had seen better days. He looked just like his sister except that he was not quite as scrawny. He was clad mostly in black leather and had a neon-orange mohawk.

The twins exchanged a few short sentences in Russian before Ilya deposited the case on a nearby table and put the satchel in a Muggle refrigerator they had for the purpose of storing temperature-sensitive potion ingredients. Then he introduced himself to Ginny.

"I'm Ilya," he said in English. His accent was a little clearer than his twin. "My sister tells me you're my partner for the afternoon."

"I'm Ginny," she replied, offering her hand. "Shall we?"

"Yeah, but can we get something to eat on the way? I'm starving." He rubbed his stomach for emphasis.

Ginny shrugged. "There has never been a Weasley who ever turned down an opportunity for food," she said as they began walking towards the door. "It must be against some sort of code or something."

Ilya openly studied Ginny's' face for a moment. "Did you say Weasley?"

"Yes?" Ginny said, a little confused.

"As in Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes?"

"Er, yes?"

"Small fucking world, eh? We've been using their Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder in some of our experiments. Fucking fantastic stuff. I can't believe you're related to them."

"Really? The hair and the freckles weren't a giveaway?"

Ilya laughed.

"Besides, if you knew me better, you wouldn't have any trouble at all believing that we're related. Or any of my other brothers for that matter – except Percy."

Ginny pulled a face – the prodigal son had yet to return to the fold – causing Ilya to laugh again. He held the door open and let Ginny pass in front of him.

"I may just have to do that."

"Do what?"

"Get to know you better."

Ginny didn't really know what to say. She was pretty sure that Ilya was flirting with her. Weird.

"Be careful what you wish for."

Ilya arched an eyebrow in amusement and joined her on the sidewalk before leading the way. "So, you actually have a brother named Percy?"

It was Ginny's turn to laugh.

The metro was dreadful. It was dirty and crowded and she was not at all comforted by how close the careening train was to its underground walls. Ilya kept up a steady stream of chatter, she thought, to distract her, asking her every random question about her family he could think of.

"So, there's Bill, who works for Gringotts, Charlie, who's a dragon keeper in Romania, Percy, who's got his head up the Minister's arse, Fred and George I've met, and... who's the last one? You said you had six."

"Ron," Ginny replied, squeezing her eyes shut against the rocking motion of the train. "He's only a year ahead of me."

"Open your eyes, love. That'll just make it worse. And what does he do?"

Ginny's eyes did indeed pop open, but not because Ilya told her to do so. She was shocked to realise that that instant was the first time she'd thought about her brother since the beach at Dover before she and Fiona crossed the Channel. _Then_ she realised, that she had also not spared a single thought for Harry, either.

"Fighting the good fight, I expect," she replied vaguely, suddenly subdued. And a little queasy, to boot.

This guilt was so not on.

Ilya studied her closely and far more seriously than she would have thought him capable of, but she thanked the gods in heaven that Ilya seemed to be one of those rare blokes who knew when to bloody well drop something.

"So, what about you and Irina? How did you get to be where you are?"

"I take it you don't just mean France," he replied with a sly grin.

"No," Ginny admitted. "I don't."

"I like a girl who gets to the point. Our parents were KGB and-"

"KGB?"

"Kind of like MI-5 but not as pleasant. And Communist."

"Oh."

"Well, by the time we were seven we could dismantle and reassemble just about any sort of firearm we could get our hands on. You can imagine our parents' disappointment when we got our letters inviting us to attend a small Wizardry school in the Ukraine. While we were there, we got to see the effects of Communism first hand, and not through the worshipful and slightly skewed spectacles our parents wore. Wear. Whatever.

"Anyway, when we were sixteen they tried to pull us out, so we ran away – bummed around Kiev for a year, before deciding we needed to put our, erm, expertise to good use. Nine or ten months ago, when we were visiting a friend who lives just over the German border, we caught wind of the rebellion here, and decided to lend a hand. We tracked down Les Dragons and the rest is history. "

"Ah, a zealot for the downtrodden and socially depressed," Ginny teased.

Ilya shrugged. "Someone needs to do it. And it's just so much fucking fun."

Ginny laughed, her nausea totally forgotten.

Conversation had pretty much died out after that, but it wasn't awkward. Although, Ginny had caught Ilya studying her with that same intense look more than once, but she'd be buggered if she could say why. She did not know him well enough to read his expression. Yet. She had a feeling their paths would be crossing frequently. And her feelings had been pretty spot on lately.

When they reached their destination, she was unsurprised by how unremarkable it looked. They were at the end of a dead-end alley, staring at a perfectly nondescript brick wall. From thin air, Ilya conjured two sets of black robes and hooded cloaks, which they donned, looked to ensure no Muggles were watching, and unceremoniously dragged Ginny through.

They had arrived in Wizarding Paris. Ginny tried not to look like a tourist. The hidden microcosm was far classier than Diagon Alley. Instead of steely grey flagstone, most of the city seemed to be made of green and black marble shot through with gold. The lampposts and other luminary fixtures were made of bronze and etched glass. Everywhere Ginny looked, something shiny caught her eye.

Ilya informed her that even the low-end shops were pricey.

"Why so expensive? " Ginny inquired as Ilya practically dragged her through the milling crowds.

"Because, for the most part, the poorest Wizards are Muggle-born. The government likes to make it as difficult for us as possible. A lot of the supplies we get are hot or smuggled in," he whispered. "There just isn't enough money."

Ginny quickly got over Wizarding Paris, and forced herself to focus on why she was there. Their success this afternoon relied heavily on how thoroughly she and Ilya did their jobs. She would not fail her first official mission. Not with so many lives at stake.

The crowds were so thick in the narrow streets that it took them nearly twenty minutes to reach the Ministry building. It was exceedingly large, considering it housed but two departments, but seemed to fit right in with the rest of the neighbourhood. It was ostentatious, intimidating even.

Ginny felt the morning's anxiety well up in her stomach again. Adrienne, Thomas and maybe even Luc were somewhere in that building, along with four others. She stood staring for a moment before Ilya led her off to the left, whispering something about finding a good place to surveil the door from which their comrades were supposed to exit. She had trouble tearing her eyes away from the building. Somehow, just being there in the flesh instead of speaking hypothetically over stolen maps drove home the severity of the situation.

Not that she had been treating the capture of her comrades flippantly, it was just more real now – more urgent.

"Is there any way we can gain rooftop access to one of these buildings?" Ginny suggested. "It would give us the best vantage."

"I hope so," Ilya responded. "Because it'll be too dangerous on the ground this close to the building, not to mention rather pointless with all these people."

"Is it usually this crowded?"

"No."

"Do you think it's because of the announcement?"

Ilya shrugged. "I don't see how. The time and location weren't mentioned."

It took them a while to find a building that wasn't warded or occupied, but they did, thankfully. Drawing his wand, Ilya transfigured their black cloaks into a funny mottling of grey, black, and white with a hint of green. Ginny kept her hood drawn close to hide her hair. She doubted anyone glancing up from the ground would be able to spot them without an effort.

Ginny studied the street below and immediately noticed a significant problem.

"Are you sure this is the right place?"

"I've only been here once, but yes. That is the Enforcer wing, there." He pointed. "And that's the door they should be using."

"Well damn."

Ilya watched as Ginny drew a folded piece of parchment out of her back pocket.

"What's wrong?"

"_Engorgio,_" Ginny said, tapping her wand to the parchment. Immediately, the building's city plan grew to a legible size. She'd made a copy so she could take notes, if need be. She was glad she did.

"This map," she said, "is nothing like what I'm looking at down there. The street names are the same, but the building is different."

"It is," Ilya agreed, peering over her shoulder. "Nothing huge, but enough to cause some tactical issues."

Ginny's stomach lurched. "You realise this is probably how it all happened, right? I think all the information Thomas brought us yesterday was false. It was a set up. That's why none of them implemented their exit strategy."

"Or Thomas betrayed us."

"No," Ginny said with certainty. An image of the night of Draco's capture sprang to mind. If he was a traitor, then there wouldn't be any reason for Draco to keep him around. She was positive. "Thomas can be trusted."

Unless Draco only kept him around because Ginny assured him Thomas was trustworthy. This could get complicated.

Ilya stared at her curiously. "You're awfully certain for someone who's been here for less than a month. Anything you'd like to share?"

Why did it always come back to her visions? She supposed she shouldn't be too surprised.

Ginny kept her eyes on the parchment. "Not particularly."

"Not particularly as in there isn't anything to share, or you don't particularly care to share it?"

Ginny sighed. "Listen, I know you don't know me very well, but you're just going to have to trust me on this. Thomas is on our side. Now, I dated an artist once. I'm no professional, but I should be able to correct these schematics well enough. You keep look-out while I do this and we'll be out of here in no time."

Ilya glowered at his obvious dismissal, but Ginny brushed her guilt aside. She liked Ilya, she really did, but she did not yet trust him enough to tell him about her visions, nor was there cause to do so. Draco was the only person she really had to convince. As far as Ginny was concerned, the less people who knew, the better. It was bad enough that she felt crazy half the time, she didn't need people looking at her like they agreed.

It took Ginny just over an hour and two changes of location for her to complete her sketch. Ilya had wanted to accompany her on the ground, but she insisted that he remain where he was and watch the entrance, keeping track of those who came and went, as it might well be important later.

Ginny rejoined Ilya on the roof where she'd left him.

"They're definitely expecting something," he said. "There are sentries everywhere."

Ginny had him mark the positions of the sentries on the parchment.

"We should get back. It's getting late," he said.

Ginny groaned. "We don't have to take the metro again, do we?"

Ilya chuckled, the earlier tension forgotten, at least for the moment. "No, but we have to get back into the Muggle city first. The wards here are too powerful."

"Good," Ginny said with a sigh of relief.

They hurried back through the city with Ilya in the lead. Ginny kept her hood drawn and her eyes peeled. She had the unpleasant feeling of being watched. She hated it.

At last, they reached the portal into the Muggle city.

As Ilya discreetly prepared the Portkey, Ginny took one last paranoid glance through the magical hole in the wall. What she saw froze her blood in her veins.

Lucius Malfoy stood not two dozen paces away, a smug sneer twisting his lips.

Then Ilya took her hand and the scene swirled and vanished. His face stuck in her head.

They reappeared just inside the warehouse, near the door. Draco, Irina, and a man Ginny did not know were studying something spread across the table. Draco's head popped up at their arrival. His brow furrowed.

"What happened?" he asked, his eyes glued on Ginny.

Ginny swallowed and opened her mouth, but Ilya spared her the trouble.

"Whoever got your man, Thomas, these blueprints fucked us well and proper."

"What do you mean?" Irina said.

Ginny produced the blueprints. "These were far from correct."

Draco took and opened them, his face unreadable.

"I've drawn the corrections over the originals," Ginny said. "And, I'll wager that's how our guys got captured in the first place. Hell, we don't even know if the coordinates were correct. For all we know, they may have Portkeyed right into an ambush."

Again, if Ginny had expected a grand reaction, she was disappointed.

The man Ginny did not know spoke up. He was tall and dark with mean eyes. Ginny disliked him instantly.

"And how do we know it wasn't your man Thomas who fucked us well and proper? Were any of you present when he received these documents? Do you know who his source is?"

Ginny stared wide-eyed at the man. He was staring at Draco. Draco was grinding his teeth again. He handed the blueprints back to Ginny and walked calmly back to the table, where he stood face to face with the other man.

Lightning quick, Draco grabbed a fistful of the other man's hair on the back of his head and slammed his face down on the table. The other man struggled, but Draco held him firm.

"I trust Thomas with my life, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say about you, Guy. He is no traitor. We have more important things to discuss. If you wish to spend your time elsewhere, do feel free to piss off."

Guy looked about ready to hex Draco, but the fact that both Irina and Ilya had their wands already in hand changed his mind. Ginny was surprised to note that her fingers, too, had unconsciously sought out her wand. With a sneer and as much dignity he could muster, Guy stormed out.

Everyone remained silent until the door slammed shut behind him.

"Honestly, Draco," Irina said, stowing her wand. "Whatever did you invite him for?"

"I didn't," Draco said. "I went to Toulouse for Lysette and Claude. He insisted, and we needed the bodies."

"Not that badly, we don't," Irina muttered.

Draco ignored her and beckoned Ginny and Ilya to the table.

"Tell me what you saw, every detail. We're running out of time."

It was nearly five before Ginny and Draco were alone.

The plans had been laid, and Ginny's group was set to depart any minute. She needed to change into her robes and fetch her broom, and was upstairs.

The first floor was little more than a catwalk surrounding the main warehouse, but most of the second floor was a barracks-style sleeping area, filled with bunk beds and a few rickety wardrobes housing bed linens, toiletries, and a few odd robes. Ginny got the feeling that the warehouse was more of temporary safe house for fugitives just sort of passing through. She doubted that anyone besides Ilya and Irina stayed there on a regular basis.

Ginny walked to the lift at the far end of the room pushed the button, calling it to her floor. Draco was waiting for her inside. She got in and pulled down the outer grate and shut the inner gate, but Draco did not pull the lever that would lower the lift to the ground level. He was watching her. Ginny met his gaze head on.

"Did you see anything?" he asked, his voice heavy.

Ginny knew what he meant. "Yes, but it's already come to pass."

"What do you mean?"

"This morning I had a dream that your father was staring at me. This afternoon as Ilya and I were leaving the Wizarding section of the city, your father _was_ staring at me."

Ginny reached across him, and pulled the lever. The lift screeched in protest as is began to move.

Draco tensed, ever-so-slightly, but it was his only reaction. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did."

"Smart ass."

"You know you wouldn't have me any other way," Ginny replied with a cheeky smile.

Draco graced her with a small smile of his own, a bemused expression on his face. Ginny looked away, blushing. She cleared her throat.

"You should be flying tonight. We could use you up there."

"I need to be on the ground, and you know it. Besides, you're a damn good flyer yourself. A little wild, maybe, but you get the job done. I have little doubt you'll execute the extraction perfectly."

Ginny knew she must have looked a complete idiot, gaping as she was, but she couldn't help it. Draco had just paid her a compliment. Of his own volition. She wondered if the devil was strapping on his ice skates.

"Thank you," she said quietly, still slightly awed.

Draco waved his hand dismissively, as though the compliment had meant nothing. "You're the strongest flyer. That's why I put you in charge."

The lift ground to a halt. Neither of them moved, as though under a spell. Draco was looking distinctly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat.

"Listen, about last night..."

"Yes?" Ginny said, her pulse speeding up.

She wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. Did he regret their private moment? Would he offer his assurances that it would never happen again? Would he apologise?

She hoped not.

"I-"

Suddenly, the grate was lifted and the accordion-like partition thrown open. Irina looked from Ginny to Draco and cocked an eyebrow. Ginny felt her face heat further. She felt as though she'd been caught red-handed, even though she had done nothing at all.

Irina looked back to Ginny. "It's time."

"Yes, of course." Ginny threw one last sideways glance at Draco before stepping out to join the rest of the extraction team.

"Oh, and Weasley?"

Ginny turned.

"Do try not to do anything too stupid."

Ginny grinned. "Come on, you know me."

"I do," Draco replied gravely. "Sodding Gryffindor."

"I won't if you don't. Deal?"

Draco smirked. "Deal."

Ginny and her team, which consisted of Claude and Lysette of Toulouse, Alex, Daniel, as well as Emilie and Pierre from Marseille, used a specially made Portkey to a temporarily vacant shop about two blocks away from the secret entrance to Wizarding Paris. It was a one-way Portkey, but Ginny destroyed it upon arrival, just in case. Once everyone had arrived, she sent them into the lions' den to make their way to the rendezvous point, one at a time so as not to draw attention. She went last.

Forty-five minutes later, Ginny thanked the gods that everyone had arrived in safety. Draco had a contact that lived in a flat about a kilometre from the Ministry building who agreed to give them access. They were all smuggled to the rooftop to await their signal.

With only fifteen minutes left until show time, Ginny went over the plan one more time.

"All right. As soon as all of our guys are clear of the building, Ilya and Irina will do what they do best – "

Claude snorted. "If you mean half the block will perish in a fiery conflagration, then yes."

Ginny smiled. "Precisely. That's our cue. The blast should block all progress on the ground, and put the Enforcers and any Death Eaters present against the blaze. The twins will then proceed to the Apparition point to disable it, preventing pursuit. Draco's team on the ground will divert attention to themselves, giving us time and space to complete our mission. Our mission, our _only_ mission is to extract the prisoners. In and out; clean and simple."

"In theory," Daniel added. "Nothing ever goes as planned."

"No," Ginny admitted, "but our first priority is to get the prisoners to the rendezvous point. Stephen should have the Ward Disruptor operational by then, allowing us to Portkey to safety. Any questions?"

"Yeah," said Pierre, looking a little peeved. "What's with the Muggle weapons?"

Ginny had asked Irina the exact same thing when the Russian had insisted on outfitting Ginny with a pair of Makarov pistols along with the Kalashnikov rifle slung over her shoulder. Pierre, Alex and Lysette had also received a rifle each, and the others had goodie bags strapped across their chests, all compliments of the Technicolor Twins.

Ginny had practiced firing the handguns while awaiting news that afternoon. The double shoulder holster had been cumbersome at first, but was now a surprisingly comforting weight against her sides. If she lost her wand, she would not be totally defenceless.

"Mostly, they're for our passengers. They won't have their wands and we'll all have a better chance of making it out of the city alive if they can watch our backs and let us fly. Also, I'm pretty sure Irina wants to use us as guinea pigs for the Accuracy Charms she placed on them, especially the Kalashnikovs," she said.

Lysette snorted. "Irina would want to use a rescue mission as a test run."

Ginny smiled. "Anything else?"

No-one spoke up. Ginny did not need to be psychic to tell that they were all nervous, except Lysette who seemed a bit bored. She felt she should say something encouraging, but was at a total loss. This wasn't a Quidditch match they were heading into. It was _battle_. There was a very real possibility that one – or all – of them would not return.

Funny how just over a month ago, she and her friends might have considered the Quidditch match a life or death situation. Oliver would have argued that it was. Harry might have done at one point, too. Her brothers probably would have agreed. It all seemed so silly now. Ginny cleared her throat.

"I know not all of you chose this life," she said, looking at Alex, who had been forced to flee his home for refusing to register as a Muggle-born. He looked as determined to do this as he was not to vomit. Daniel was at his side, as ever, wearing a similar expression.

"But here we are, fighting an enemy that hates us blindly for our heritages and our allegiances. But, most importantly, they hate us for our unwillingness to bow to them, to hand over our lives and our free will to them because they deem us inferior.

"They think us weak, unskilled, disorganised. And yet they fear us," Ginny said fiercely, passion bubbling up in her chest. She was surprised by its intensity.

"Do you know why? Because we _resist._ Because they have forced us from our families, murdered our friends, and we still fight them. Because we have nothing left to lose, and we won't give up. Because we have _heart_." Ginny pounded her fist to her breast. "And loyalty, and a willingness to die for what we believe in."

"I won't lie to you. We may all very well die tonight, but I would rather die fighting to save my friends than to live under a mad-man's boot heel."

As soon as the words left Ginny's mouth, a great explosion rocked the city, spewing smoke and debris high into the air. It was followed quickly by three more.

Ginny climbed onto the low ledge surrounding the roof. She snapped her broomstick out of its harness and turned to face them.

"All right, mates – diamond formation. Claude, you bring up the rear. If anything happens to me, you follow Lysette's command. Understood?"

There were mute nods all around, but Ginny was pleased to note that the members of her small team seemed more determined than fearful now.

"Right then, let's go wreak some havoc."

Ginny turned and dove from the rooftop. The building was not quite as tall as the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts, but the free-fall was no less exhilarating. Ginny had not been on her broom since that night at Pexonne, and she relished the familiar surge of adrenaline that coursed through her body as the street below drew nearer. At the last moment, she shoved her broom beneath her and shot off northward toward the explosion. A few moments later, she saw Alex and Lysette move into position on either side of her. She had little doubt that Emilie, Daniel, Pierre, and Claude were behind her. She knew despite any fear, they would never abandon their comrades, not to a fate as bleak as Procrustes.

As Ginny flew through the streets of Wizarding Paris at breakneck speed, she allowed her mind to settle. The ubiquitous dread she'd felt since waking was banished to the darkest corner of her mind. Now she only felt the worn wood of her broomstick beneath her fingertips and the frigid November air whipping through her hair. She barely registered the shouts of surprise and displeasure uttered by the few people dotting the streets as she and her team zoomed past.

They arrived at the Ministry building less than two minutes later. Ginny had not been quite clear on what a bazooka was, or how it worked, but was glad that Ilya and Irina knew their stuff. The Enforcer wing was now partially obliterated; what remained was now burning. The street had also been targeted, and now had three huge craters and so much detritus as to be nearly impassable without the time to clear the rubble. As it was, it seemed they were having a hard enough time keeping the fire from spreading to the rest of the building.

In the confusion following the explosions, Draco and his team of twenty-five Dragons, gathered from across the country, attacked from the rear. The Enforcers, apparently, had been prepared for it, and outnumbered the Dragons nearly two to one.

Reflexively, Ginny's eyes scanned the hazy melee, urgently seeking out Draco's distinctive flash of platinum hair. Her eyes landed instead upon Adrienne. It was difficult to see anything through the billowing smoke, but Adrienne's white skin and jet black hair were not easy to mistake.

Adrienne, along with the other prisoners, were huddled on the street near the conflagration. There were at least ten enforcers guarding them, some with wands aimed at the prisoners, some at the fray to ward off any would be rescuers. They had been prepared for this.

Ginny halted and caught Alex's eyes and signalled that he should circle around to the left. With a nod of acknowledgement, he did so. Daniel and Emilie followed. She gave Lysette the same command, and soon they were fanned out around the group below. Ginny drew her wand.

"_Gaelus Maximus!"_ she shouted, pointing her wand straight ahead. Suddenly a great gust of wind tore forcefully down the street. The blaze surged with the increase of oxygen, but the spell had the desired effect: the area had been totally cleared of smoke, dust and ash, giving Ginny and the others full visibility. True, they had lost their cover, but with the Enforcers crowded so closely to the captives, Ginny did not want to risk inadvertently injuring one of their own.

Ginny saw Adrienne glance skyward, spot them, and elbow what looked like Thomas.

"Now!" Ginny shouted.

Simultaneously, Ginny, Lysette, Pierre and Alex dive-bombed the Enforcers beneath them, leaving Claude, Daniel and Emilie to cover them from above. They never knew what hit them. Ginny disarmed one and kicked him in the face as she rocketed back into the air. He crumpled to the ground unconscious. The others had done something similar, except for Lysette, who landed and engaged two of the Enforcers.

Adrienne and Thomas, seeing their intentions, used the attack as a diversion and leapt at their captors. Thomas jumped on the back of the nearest one, wrapped his iron shackles around the other man's neck and pulled. Adrienne kicked one viciously behind the legs, bringing him to his knees. Without hesitation, Adrienne grabbed the man's chin with her left hand and twisted sharply upward. Ginny imagined she heard his neck snap, and tried not to think about how easy it had been.

Ginny dove again, cast a quick Stunner at an Enforcer who had Pierre in his sights and landed. Ducking a flash of blue that sailed just past her head, she watched another Enforcer collapse, his body encased in some gooey, gelatinous substance. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Daniel smile and salute. She'd have to remember to thank him later.

Adrienne was at Ginny's side before she had even fully dismounted.

"Get these things off me," she demanded, showing Ginny her restraints.

"Are they magical?"

"Physical, I think."

Ginny pressed the tip of her wand against the links. "_Diffindo,"_ she said. There was a flash and a clink. The chain had separated.

Not waiting for the thanks Ginny knew would not be coming, Ginny removed the Kalashnikov and tossed it to Adrienne. "Know how to use it?"

"Of course," Adrienne snapped in return.

"Good, cover me."

"Cover yourself. I'm finding Draco."

"The hell you are," Ginny said, yanking Adrienne's arm. The other girl had already begun walking away. "I'm in charge of this extraction, and I'll be buggered if I let your self-righteous stubbornness fuck this up. Now cover me so I can make sure we all get out alive."

Adrienne looked like she'd rather eat her spleen, but didn't argue, miraculously. Instead she raised the rifle and fired a quick burst of rounds past Ginny, making her ears ring. Another Enforcer fell."

"Thanks," Ginny said, grudgingly. "Was that so difficult?"

Adrienne glared. Apparently, it was.

Ginny ignored her and surveyed the scene. All of the guards had been dispatched and the other members of the team were currently either helping their passengers out of their chains or were, like Adrienne, watching everyone else's backs.

Emilie, Alex and Daniel were ready to leave already, Remy, Jerome, and Melanie, their passengers, sporting assault rifles.

Lysette was bleeding profusely from a wound across her chest, and the way she carried her left arm suggested it was broken. As was her broom, Ginny noted with displeasure. Pierre had a deep gash on his cheek that would likely require mending, but was otherwise fully capable. He and Pascale were also prepared to leave.

Luc and Claude, however, were having trouble. Luc, who had been captured the previous day, was almost unrecognisable. He was covered in bruises, his clothing torn. His left eye was swollen shut, his lips split and bleeding, and where his shackles had been were angry and raw, as though he had been struggling against them for too long. He was unable to hold himself upright without assistance, and was sat on the ground, propped up against a huge chunk of building that had landed nearby.

Ginny was unsure how good a flyer Claude was, but she knew from experience how difficult it was to have a passenger, let alone one who was practically unconscious. Her brain was whirling. There really only seemed to be one option, and she already didn't like it.

"Alex, Daniel, Emilie, Pierre – hit the road, don't look back. Remember, your first priority is to get to the rendezvous point." Ginny tossed her broom to Thomas, who caught it easily. "You fly Lysette back. Claude, you take Adrienne. I'll take Luc back on foot."

"You can't be serious," Adrienne said. "Draco—"

"Draco knows what he's doing. You have your orders."

Adrienne sneered. "I don't take orders from you."

"You do today."

Without waiting to witness their obedience, Ginny went to Luc and crouched beside him. His breathing was shallow, and he was fighting just to keep his good eye open. She cupped his face in her hands.

"I'm Ginny, and I'm going to get you out of here. I promise."

Ginny tapped her wand to the top of Luc's head and watched him slowly fade away before casting the Disillusionment Charm on herself. She shivered at the sensation. Now that they were both invisible, Ginny heaved Luc to his feet and draped his arm over her shoulder. She was lucky Luc was of a slight build and not much taller than she, or else it may have been a doomed task.

Ginny looked around. Smoke and ash had filled the square again, limiting visibility, but the sounds of battle could still be clearly heard and barely discernable forms rushed around the scene. There was spellfire to dodge everywhere. Ginny wished she knew if Draco was all right, but there was nothing for it. Getting Luc out was more important right now.

Pointing her wand to the sky, Ginny sent a burst of green sparks into the air, their signal that the extraction was complete, and began walking, Luc relying heavily upon her for support, towards the rendezvous point.


	11. Bloody Hands

**This took way too long, considering I had most of it written in my head about a year ago, but hey - I suck at life. What can I say, but that I love you all, especially Bree for all the hand holding, and Lyr942, for another amazing and timely beta. Also, in particular this time, to claymor for always leaving amazing reviews and for the support and motivation I needed about midway through this chapter. You all rock my socks.**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Bloody Hands**

**Thursday, 13 November**

Making her way across the battlefield would have been difficult enough without Luc's dead weight slowing Ginny down. There was debris everywhere, and people – fallen and fleeing – and the smoke was so thick at times Ginny thought she'd suffocate.

It took what felt like an age, but Ginny finally made it to the northern fringes of the battlefield. At least she was heading in the right direction, despite the disorienting surroundings. The fire had spread there from the Enforcer wing, giving Ginny further cover, aiding the Disillusionment Charm. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath and look around. The square was emptying as the Dragons systematically withdrew from the scene. Ginny's own signal had begun the retreat,f and she suspected that Death Eaters and Enforcers would soon be the sole occupants in no more than fifteen minutes.

She still had yet to spot Draco.

Sighing, Ginny started forward once more, wanting to make it back to the rendezvous point before she ran out of time and strength. She had lost a good bit of time, having been forced to back-track twice to avoid both burning parts of building and walking through the middle of a rather heated duel. Being stranded in a hostile city, exhausted and sporting an incapacitated fugitive was hardly Ginny's idea of a night on the town.

Forcefully, Ginny stumbled, a sharp, tingling sensation spreading outward from her shoulder blades, and she could suddenly see her feet.

"Bugger," Ginny swore under her breath. She was totally visible again.

Dropping a still-invisible Luc as gently as she could, Ginny spun around and fired a Stunner at her attacker. They blocked it easily with a dark chuckle. Dread sunk like a stone in her stomach as a silver-white mask emerged from the smoke. It looked vaguely familiar, but they all looked the same, really. Not that it mattered.

Ginny steeled herself, not wanting to give the Death Eater the benefit of seeing her fear. Death Eaters preyed on it, thrived on it, like parasitic worms. Wand gripped so tightly her knuckles were white, Ginny went on the offensive. Non-verbally, she sent every spell, jinx and hex she could think of towards the Death Eater.

Duelling practice with Adrienne had been beneficial. Ginny's assault was ferocious, and for several minutes, she and the Death Eater were evenly matched. She had caught him off guard with her skill; what Irina said about their pride was proven true. Unfortunately, however, Ginny's trek with Luc had taxed her physically, and she knew she wouldn't last much longer if she couldn't land _something_ on the slippery bastard.

When Ginny finally did miss a beat, the Death Eater did not pull any punches. The sickly green spellfire of the Killing Curse sailed straight for her chest.

Ginny dove left and rolled. The curse exploded the cobblestones behind her. Heart in her throat, she clambered to her feet. A cloud of smoke billowed in, providing a little temporary cover. Eyes and throat burning, she choked back a cough, not wanting to reveal her location.

She heard the crunch of boots on loose pavement from the general direction where the Death Eater should have been. She fired a quick, _Impedimenta,_ and ducked again, this time moving back toward the right. Ginny was rewarded by a frustrated grunt as the man's feet stuck to the ground, followed by another Killing Curse slicing through the smoke, right through where she had just been standing.

The wind changed again, blowing the smoke back toward the burning building and up, rather than into the street. Knowing she would not have the element of surprise much longer, and that fleeing was not an option, Ginny hurriedly raised her wand, her mouth already forming the words for another Stunning spell. Abruptly, Ginny found her wrist gripped firmly by a male hand with skin like alabaster. Her heart leapt for a moment, thinking Draco had found her.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Weasley. We meet again." The voice was smooth, like water sliding over stones, but it grated on her nerves like sandpaper.

Ginny froze. This was _bad_.

"Malfoy," Ginny spat venomously, tugging on her arm. "I'd say it was a pleasure, but I've been told lying is a dreadful habit."

"So is disrespecting one's superiors," Malfoy said coldly. His eyes were they exact same colour as Draco's but they weren't the same. Lucius' were... empty, inhuman. The man may as well have been carved of stone.

Ginny snorted. "I suppose that would depend on one's definition of 'superior'."

Malfoy growled, granite eyes flashing.

She must have been a lunatic, provoking a man like Lucius Malfoy so shamelessly. She was going to get herself killed, but she refused to go down without a fight. Ginny tugged on her arm one more time, but he just tightened his grip.

"Insolent little-"

"Lucius," a gruff voice barked. Ginny could hear the other Death Eater walking toward them. "Your posturing is tiresome." He had an English accent. "Just finish her off already. We have more pressing matters."

The smoke cleared just then, revealing the other Death Eater. His mask was half broken, no doubt Ginny's doing. Dark auburn stubble adorned the lower portion of his face, and an icy blue eye glared daggers at her.

"Because you were making such short work of her on your own," Lucius sneered.

The other man snarled and raised his wand at Ginny, the tip already glowing green.

Ginny's hands acted of their own accord; later she would never be able to recall consciously moving them. Her left hand flew to her right side where it found one of the pistols Irina had forced on her, ready and waiting. She withdrew it and flicked the safety off in one smooth motion, aimed and, with a silent prayer, pulled the trigger twice. Ginny didn't watch as the Death Eater's body collapsed, but she heard it thud against the ground. Her stomach turned; she did her best to ignore it.

Fluidly, Ginny swung the pistol around, whipping Malfoy in the face with it. Outraged, his hand flew to his cheek, and came away red. Ginny stepped back and pointed both the pistol and her wand at Malfoy, who had his wand aimed at her head. They were not even two metres apart, and Ginny was sure that if looks could kill, she would have already burst into flames.

"You'll regret that, blood-traitor brat."

"Sticks and stones," Ginny said, adrenaline overload making her nerves steady. She was certain, however, that once this was over – if she survived - that she would not be so calm. "And I'm actually feeling pretty good about it right now."

The tip of Malfoy's wand glowed green. Ginny raised her weapons a little higher, realising she had just been put in the horrible position of possibly killing Draco's father.

"I wouldn't do that, unless you want to end up like your friend," Ginny said, much more bravely than she felt.

"Holcroft was brash and you had the element of surprise, something which I am not and you no longer possess," Malfoy drawled smugly.

The sickly green intensified. Ginny's index finger began to squeeze the trigger, not really wanting to but knowing that to hesitate would mean her certain death. She forced herself to remember Malfoy's treatment of Sabine Durant, a helpless girl, and of his hand in Ginny's very own near-death experiences. Her resolve strengthened. Lucius Malfoy was pond scum.

_And a human being_! her brain shouted. Who was she to be judge, jury and executioner?

"Oi! Ginny, get down!"

Later, Ginny wouldn't be able to say what made her obey. Perhaps part of her brain recognised the voice as Draco's and trusted it instinctively. Perhaps she really didn't want to kill anyone else, even Lucius Malfoy, if she didn't have to.

Ginny dropped to her knees. Lucius turned, wand raised. Draco, his face stony, was striding toward them, his long legs quickly covering the distance. Without slowing his pace, Draco brought his hands together, arms outstretched. The air surrounding them flashed blue-white and a booming _crack_ like a clap of thunder crashed into Ginny. With the black smoke, she had the brief impression of being in the middle of a thunder cloud before the force of it bowled her over.

Lucius, at whom the spell had been aimed, took the brunt of the force of the spell and went flying backward where he collided with the marble facade of the Ministry building, unconscious.

Ginny tried to get up, but her ears were ringing and she had a nasty case of vertigo and fell right back over. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a few deep breaths, trying not to vomit. Then there were warm, dry hands on her face, and Draco's voice began to slowly penetrate her cotton-filled ears. Ginny forced her eyes open when he began to sound a bit more urgent, and placed one of her hands reassuringly on his.

"Draco, I was worried about you." Her voice sounded far away and echo-y.

Draco half-laughed in disbelief. "You were-? What were you doing fighting my father? I thought we agreed we wouldn't be doing anything stupid."

Ginny smiled and her head spun. "You know me. Never back down from a challenge. Help me up, would you?"

"I'm not kidding," Draco said, grabbing her beneath both arms. Ginny gripped his shoulders, and he hefted her to her feet in one go as easily as though he were lifting a child. "He would have killed you."

Ginny swayed, but Draco didn't let go. "I know," she said seriously. "I was duelling someone else and he got the drop on me."

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, just a little dizzy."

Draco bent and retrieved Ginny's wand and gun where they had dropped from her hands as she had fallen. She took them, and hastily stowed the pistol safely in its holster. The wand she kept handy.

"What are you even doing here?" he demanded. "You sent up the flares over half an hour ago."

"Bugger," Ginny swore, suddenly remembering Luc. Ignoring Draco, she began searching for Luc's invisible form. A minute later, she literally stumbled upon him, and wound up on her hands and knees.

"_Finite Incantatem!"_ she said, pointing her wand at the invisible lump. Luc slowly became visible again.

"Sweet Merlin, is that Luc?"

"Yep," Ginny said, standing.

Draco hurried to her side, and together they heaved Luc's limp form off the ground. They each draped one of Luc's arms around their necks, their own arms criss-crossing across his back. Luckily all three were about the same height, which made the position much less awkward. Ginny was very grateful Draco had found her. She doubted she had the strength now to carry Luc all the way back to the rendezvous point by herself.

"Is he alive?" Draco asked, steering them through the maze of debris.

There were still people running around everywhere, but Ginny suspected they were part of some sort of fire brigade; not a single one of them spared a second glace for the three Dragons struggling across the square.

"I hope so."

By the time they made it to the empty first-floor flat Stephen had commandeered for their exit location, it was all Ginny could do to put one foot in front of the other. She was exhausted, physically and mentally, and Holcroft's chilly blue glare relentlessly bombarded her mind's eye. Even when she tried to push it to the background and focus on the task at hand the image persisted. Deep down, Ginny feared she would never truly be rid of it_._ She'd once heard crazy ol' Mad-Eye Moody whisper to Tonks over a bottle of Firewhisky one night at Grimmauld Place that you never, ever forget your first.

The thought made Ginny positively ill.

"Thank the gods," Stephen said, flinging the door open just as they reached it. He shoved his glasses up on his nose with his middle finger. "There are only two minutes left before the Disruptor self-destructs."

"We were worried we'd have to leave without you," said Ilya. He'd been in the other room watching the street below. A Kalashnikov was slung over his left shoulder, extra ammunition was criss-crossed his chest, and his wand was secured to his right thigh in a leather sheath. He looked like a warrior, and Ginny was seriously glad he was on their side.

"You look like hell, Weasley."

"Nice to see you, too."

"We were delayed," Draco said disrupting their banter. "Do you have the Portkeys?"

Stephen only barely suppressed an eye-roll. "Can you manage Luc?"

"Yes," said Draco.

"Hell no," said Ginny, simultaneously.

Ilya laughed. "Glad that's decided."

"Clock's ticking," said Stephen.

"Go with Ilya," Draco said. Their eyes locked, and he held it for a moment before shifting his gaze to the Russian next to her. "I'll take Luc. See you there."

Ginny nodded and stepped away, feeling inexplicably like she had missed something. Ilya was there in an instant, his arm wrapped around her waist. Stephen tossed him a shiny metal disk and they vanished.

The warehouse was utter bedlam.

Everywhere Ginny looked there were Dragons. Some were standing; others were collapsed in hastily conjured chairs. Still more lay prone on gurneys that had been prepared beforehand, just for that purpose. Some were bleeding; some had their faces screwed up in pain. Others were wandering aimlessly, obviously in shock.

Ginny could sympathise.

Draco whirled into existence next to her. He nearly over-balanced from Luc's dead weight, but Ginny and Ilya both jumped to catch them. Draco grunted with the effort and Ginny herself nearly toppled, tired as she was. Ilya saved them.

"Someone get a bed over here!" Ilya shouted above the din.

A man Ginny thought was named Raoul wheeled one over out of nowhere, and the four of them managed to arrange Luc's body upon it without incident.

A stout, middle-aged woman pushed her way through the crowd. Ginny recognised her as the nurse who had attended Sabine the day before in Lyon. She began waving her wand over Luc's unresponsive form.

"Is he alive?" Ginny heard herself ask. She was suddenly afraid that she had made the wrong decision. If she'd figured out some way to fly him back, he could have been here, receiving treatment, ages ago. Ginny's gut twisted viciously. She couldn't stand if there was any more blood on her hands tonight.

"He is," the nurse said, her gravelly voice emotionless.

"Keep him that way." Draco leaned toward Ginny, his hand a ridiculously comforting weight on her shoulder. "Well done, Ginny."

And then he was gone, calling across the clamour for Maurice and a report. Ginny was still staring at Luc, like she could will him awake. Ilya tugged on her arm three times before he finally won her attention.

"Come, _mylaya,_ let's get you cleaned up," he said. "You've done all you can."

"Funny how it doesn't feel like enough," Ginny replied, allowing Ilya to lead her toward the lift.

"It never does."

Ilya wove them effortlessly through the crowd and furniture and crates scribbled with Russian script. They stood in silence waiting for the lift, Ginny lost in her thoughts. The past hour was catching up to her, now that she was safe. Bile rose in the back of her throat, and her hands were shaking violently. Ginny swallowed hard and tried to make it stop, to make the memory disappear.

Her brain wasn't cooperating. Suddenly she felt an almost overwhelming desire to cry. Or vomit. Maybe both.

The lift screeched and banged its way to a halt. Ilya threw up the grate and Ginny suddenly found herself squeezed tight in an awkward one-armed hug with a face full of hair.

"Fi," Ginny said, returning the embrace.

"You left your side-kick at home again, you silly bint. Am I going to have to find a leash for you?" Fiona said, stepping back.

Ginny smiled weakly. "I think a bell on my ankle will do."

Fiona's expression grew serious, brows furrowed and lips quirked to the side. "Are you all right? You look like hell."

Ilya chuckled. "That's what I told her."

Ginny had totally forgotten he was there. "I'm sorry," she said hastily. "Fiona, this is Ilya. Ilya, Fiona."

"Nice to meet you," Fiona said, extending her good hand. The other arm, Ginny noticed, was supported by a sling.

"Likewise," Ilya replied, shaking hands. "Now, what's this about a side-kick and a leash? Sounds kinky."

Fiona blushed, caught off-guard by Ilya's mischievousness. Ilya grinned.

However, whatever Fiona replied was lost on Ginny, the words coming heavily to her ears, as though she were under water. Something tightened painfully around her lungs. Her vision narrowed to a swath of white fabric on the floor. It was tucked back in the corner of the room, off to the left of the lift and partially obscured by a stack of crates.

Ginny's feet propelled her forward, abruptly abandoning Fiona and Ilya and totally unaware of the strange looks they were giving her. All she saw was the fabric, the sheet. There was a white sheet on the ground, and Ginny didn't need to see the body-shaped lump it hid to know it was there.

_Casualties._It was only a morbid curiosity that drew her now. She had to know. She had to _see_.

Ginny slowly rounded the corner, the sound of broken, stifled sobs reaching her ears and her heartstrings. She didn't recognise him at first, but when he jerked his face up to glare at her, she knew. It was Fabrice. He was kneeling next to one of nearly a dozen concealed bodies on the floor, blood smeared on his clothing and face, the tears leaving track marks down his dirty cheeks.

"She's died in my arms," Fabrice said, his voice cracking.

Yvette. Ginny didn't have to ask to know it was she whom Fabrice was mourning. He had tried so hard to change her mind about coming, but Yvette had insisted.

_I'm sorry._ The words stuck in her throat.

Lightening fast, Fabrice jumped to his feet and pinned Ginny to the row of crates behind her by her robes. Had there been any breath in her lungs, she would have lost it.

"You asked her to come," he said hoarsely. His words washed over her like ice water. Fury and grief burned in his eyes. Ginny thought they would burn her up, too.

_I know._

"Why did you have to ask _her_? Of all the people, you had to ask _her_!"

_I'm sorry. _The words danced around her skull, mocking her vocal chords.

In her periphery, Ginny saw Ilya. He was trying to pull Fabrice off, but he wouldn't let go of Ginny's robes.

She tried again, but it only came out as a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"You're _sorry_?" he shouted with renewed fervour. Fabrice shrugged off Ilya and slammed Ginny into the crate again.

Ginny could hear Fiona calling for help.

"You're the reason she's dead, and all you can say is you're sorry? It's your fault!"

"I know!" Ginny finally shouted, his accusations ringing in her ears.

Everyone stopped moving, even Ilya, who looked incredibly sad.

"Don't you think I know that?" Ginny shouted again, this time shoving Fabrice hard on the chest. He stumbled backward, looking bewildered. "How could I _not_ know that?"

Stunned by the admission, Fabrice visibly deflated. He sunk bonelessly to the ground, eyes staring blankly.

"Ginny," Ilya said, lightly touching her arm. "Ginny, talk to me."

Trembling, Ginny fled.

Ginny hid in the showers, curled in the corner of the last stall on the left. It was the only place she found that was deserted, and she doubted anyone would think to look for her there. She couldn't say how long she sat there, staring at the pistols she had immediately discarded. The feel of them against her body was abominable. Her hands were wedged behind her folded knees. She couldn't bear to look at them; all she saw was blood.

Ginny suddenly understood why Draco insisted on doing nearly everything himself. It wasn't out of an altruistic sense of service – it was so he wouldn't have the responsibility of his followers' deaths weighing on his shoulders. She found she couldn't blame him, because _this_, this guilt was suffocating.

It was Fiona who found Ginny some time later. She hadn't moved at all.

"Hey, girlie," Fiona said quietly. She sat down next to Ginny and rested her head on Ginny's shoulder.

"Hey," Ginny whispered.

"You know that girl's death wasn't really your fault, right?" Fiona asked, interrupting several minutes of silence.

"Yvette. Her name was Yvette. And yes, it was. If I hadn't asked her to come, this wouldn't have happened."

"She could have told you no. She knew what she was getting into."

"Did she? Because I was positive I did, but I was wrong. What right do I have to ask people to die?"

Fiona sighed. "You didn't ask her to die. You asked her to fight for something she believed in, and she said she would."

Ginny looked away, every bone in her body disagreeing, but not really wanting to fight with Fiona about it.

After a few moments, Fiona stood. "I thought you'd like to change, so I brought you some clean clothes. They're on the bench. Malfoy's calling a meeting, and he said he'd like you there."

"All right,' Ginny said softly. "I'll be down in a few."

Fiona turned to leave, but paused with her hand on the shower curtain. She offered Ginny a tentative smile. "I'm glad you're okay, girlie."

Ginny managed a weak smile, just for Fi. "Thanks."

Ginny hastily showered and dressed. The jumper and denims she packed were nice and warm and a right sight better than the filthy robes she'd worn during the rescue attempt. They were so soiled and smelled so strongly of smoke that Ginny actually considered burning them.

After tugging her boots on, Ginny slipped her wand up her sleeve, but hesitated when she picked up the pistols. They had gone from bulky and awkward to comforting to ominous and distressing. She wondered if she'd feel the same way about her wand had she shouted the Killing Curse rather than pulled a trigger.

In the end, she decided to carry them.

The warehouse was mostly deserted now; the Dragons who had had it packed and bustling earlier had all either left for their own safe houses or were asleep in the barracks. Ginny found Draco at the same table with which Guy's face had become intimately acquainted earlier, along with Maurice, Adrienne, Thomas, Ilya, Irina, Stephen and Fiona.

Draco stopped mid-sentence when Ginny arrived, causing everyone but Stephen to turn and look at her. Draco's expression was unreadable, which made Ginny that much more uncomfortable. Not that his expression was ever readable, but still.

"Have a seat, Ginny," Draco said.

Ginny walked around the table and sat between Ilya and Fiona and across from Adrienne. Draco was on Ilya's other side, standing at the head. Ginny set the pistols on the table, not really wanting to hold them any longer. Ilya smiled and dropped her a wink. She arched an eyebrow, wondering how he managed to bounce back so quickly. She was still reeling.

Draco sat. "Reports?"

Stephen spoke first, shoving his glasses farther up on his nose with his middle finger. "The Ward Disruptor worked perfectly and, as far as I can tell, there has been no trace on the Portkey activity. What I've overheard via the listening device Thomas planted in Transportation, suggests the Ministry isn't even aware there was gap, let alone that it was open for an hour and that it was our escape route."

Draco nodded.

"The bazooka was far more effective than a Reductor, but the damage was more extreme than we had anticipated," Irina said. She was standing behind Ginny with one shoulder leaning lazily against a stack of crates, eating an apple.

"I agree," Ilya said. "I think we need to work on a spell to control the blast radius if we plan to use it again."

Ginny agreed, too. The debris from multiple explosions had made crossing the square nearly impossible.

"All right," Draco said. "Start on that as soon as you can."

Ilya nodded.

"Also, the extraction team and the flank team both have reported improved accuracy with the pistols and the rifles. The Accuracy Charm was a success," Irina added.

Ginny didn't hear Draco's response. All she could think about was how she'd closed her eyes just before pulling the trigger.

"Maurice?" Draco asked. The blond was across from Fiona.

"None of the safe houses were attacked during the extraction. Even if the Ministry had planned on us attacking, they don't seem to have had a counter-measure in place, suggesting they've yet to locate any more."

Draco looked relieved, but only for a moment. He turned to Thomas and Adrienne. He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully.

"Did they learn anything worth learning?"

"No," Thomas said.

"But we selected the team from those who've been trained to withstand the effects of Veritaserum and... physical coercion," Adrienne said. "Though, I cannot speak for Luc. He has yet to regain consciousness."

Fiona cleared her throat awkwardly. "Actually, I spoke with the nurse just a moment ago. Luc died about ten minutes ago."

Everyone stopped moving. Ginny wasn't even breathing.

"She said something about his brain swelling and internal bleeding," Fiona continued, looking distinctly uncomfortable as messenger. "But I didn't really understand what she was talking about."

"_What?_" Ginny whispered hoarsely. Her head was spinning.

"I'm so sorry, girlie. I know—"

"So it was for nothing. I dragged him across that battlefield for nothing. I kill—and now he's dead."

Adrienne spoke, a sneer in her voice. "He might have survived, had you not been so impulsive and stubborn."

"And what would you have done?" Ginny demanded. She dug her fingernails into her palms to keep from hitting the other girl. She really didn't need this, not from Adrienne. "Would _you_ have tried to fly him back – one hundred and eighty pounds of dead weight in a strong headwind? I had a flyer with a broken arm and we were short a broom – "

"So you decided to drag him single-handedly across a battlefield – "

"I had to make sure _everyone_ got out, even your sorry arse. I had orders – "

"It was stupid!"

"I didn't have another choice!" Ginny shouted, standing up. She jabbed a finger in Adrienne's direction. "And you weren't going to help. The only things on your mind were Draco and wounded pride at being ordered about by a Brit."

Adrienne stood, too, amethyst eyes flashing, but Ginny ploughed on. Fiona gingerly placed a hand on Ginny's forearm, but she jerked it away angrily.

"I put my personal safety aside; I risked my _life_ to save his. Do you even know what that's like, you selfish, arrogant – "

"How dare you?" Adrienne hissed.

"How dare you! You've been nothing but hostile and physically aggressive since I got here – "

"That's because you don't belong here."

"I'm not leaving."

"Don't be stubborn, cherie," Adrienne said coolly. She placed her palms on the table, and leaned toward Ginny. "Not when everyone knows the truth: It's your fault Luc's –"

Ginny's fist collided abruptly with Adrienne's jaw.

Adrienne froze for a moment, totally shocked, before springing into action. Like the panther she could become, Adrienne leapt across the table and tackled Ginny to the ground, so quickly that no one had time to react. Ginny hit the ground hard, the impact nearly knocking the wind out of her. Adrienne's hands sought Ginny's throat, her face contorted with rage.

Ginny reacted on instinct, her many tussles with her brothers finally paying off. With her left hand she grabbed Adrienne's right wrist and forced it across her body, leaving her unbalanced. Quickly, Ginny punched her in the face again and used the momentum to roll Adrienne off of her. Ginny twisted and pushed herself up, wanting to take advantage of Adrienne's prone position, only to have Adrienne's boot collide viciously with her jaw. It was not well placed because of the angle, but her teeth rattled and her vision shook nonetheless. Ginny tasted blood where she'd bitten the side of her tongue.

Strong fingers wrapped around Ginny's upper arms, both helping her up and dragging her away at the same time. Ginny jerked furiously against the restraining grasp and, miraculously breaking free, threw herself back at Adrienne. The other girl met her halfway and things devolved alarming afterward. What started as a brawl ended up a cat-fight, complete with kicking, biting and hair-pulling.

It was all a violent blur until vice-like arms wrapped around Ginny's chest, pinning her arms to her sides. Adrienne's form was retreating, too, slender white fingers grasped tightly around her black-clad arms. Ginny struggled fiercely, forcing her captor to lift her off the ground. A frustrated cry ripped itself from her throat, a visceral, angry sound that Ginny didn't even know she could make.

"Let me go!"

"Sorry, _mylaya_," Ilya whispered in her ear, "but I think you've made your point."

Ilya's calm words had an immediate effect on Ginny. The rage flooded out to be replaced with something far more insidious and dark – guilt. Pure, unadulterated guilt hit her full-force, leaving her so stunned it was all she could do just to draw breath. She felt her legs go out, and the only thing keeping her upright was Ilya's grip. Lyon, Sabine, nearly losing Fiona, Luc's capture, the failed rescue, the assault on the Ministry, Holcroft, Yvette, now Luc – it was just too much.

Suddenly, the sound of flesh forcefully contacting flesh resounded throughout the warehouse, bringing everyone to a standstill, except Adrienne. She took two or three stunned steps backward, inadvertently allowing Ginny a clear view of Draco.

His face was angled to the side and Ginny could see his chest heave as he took deep, calming breaths. Slowly, his hand came up to rub his jaw. His gaze, when it settled on Adrienne, was chilly. He spat a wad of blood on the concrete floor.

"Take a walk," he bit out. He clenched and unclenched his hands at his side, like restraining them took real effort.

It was amazing how Adrienne managed to look both haughty and contrite simultaneously.

"Dra-"

"Now."

With a huff and one more snarling glare for Ginny, Adrienne stormed off for the lift.

Draco was staring at Ginny, his intensity gluing her to the spot. She felt like he was penetrating her soul, revealing all the dark things she didn't want anyone to know about. But she couldn't seem to look away.

Behind her, Irina laughed. She hadn't moved from her perch, but seemed genuinely amused at the outcome of the little scuffle she'd just witnessed. Now finished with her apple, she tossed it up in the air and zapped it with her wand, causing it to vanish in a puff of red smoke. She sauntered past the rest of the group, most of whom had gathered around Ginny and Adrienne, and picked up Ginny's guns.

"That was - how do you Brits say? – brilliant. She's had that coming for ages."

"Honestly Irina," Draco said, sounding slightly exasperated. He didn't, however finish the sentence.

Ginny's heart was racing again, watching Irina inspect the pistols she had given her. The Russian finished with one and picked up the other. With practiced ease, she slid the slide back, revealing the chamber, and then popped the magazine out. She hesitated in putting it back in the butt of the pistol. She turned to Ginny and arched a sculpted brow. Ginny's stomach dropped to her knees, but Fiona spared her from having to respond to the unasked question.

Fiona's hand gently explored Ginny's abused face, searching for serious injuries. Her lip felt busted, and her jaw ached like hell from where it made friends with Adrienne's boot, but her brain wouldn't really allow her to acknowledge them. She was quite numb, in general. Ilya reluctantly released Ginny and stepped away, allowing Fiona to press fingers into Ginny's ribs, ensuring they were undamaged.

"Are you all right, girlie?"

The question was genuine, concerned and utterly insulting. Ginny stared incredulously.

"You're kidding, right?"Ginny said her voice shaky. "How could any of this possibly be all right? How could _I_ be all right? After everything that's happened today? How can you even ask?"

Ginny stopped shouting and drew a great shuddering breath, fighting with everything she had left not to cry. Then she turned and ran. She just couldn't stand to see the hurt that flooded Fiona's eyes. She couldn't stand knowing she'd put it there.

The streets of Paris were nearly deserted in that part of town, and the people that were out registered as little more than blurs at the edge of Ginny's vision as she bolted down the sidewalk. It was snowing again too, fat, wet flakes covering everything with a sheet of white, and making the light around the street lamps seem small and hazy. She ran and ran, until the only things she could feel were the snowflakes snapping on her cheeks and the only thing she could hear was the blood rushing through her ears.

She ran until her breath came in painful gasps, the freezing cold air burning her lungs and turning her exhalations to icy fog. Her face and hands were numb and her feet were getting there, but she felt freer. She felt like she could outrun everything, even if it was only for a moment. Trying to force her breathing back into a relatively normal pattern, Ginny took in her surroundings. She was on a bridge over what was mostly likely the Seine; the sign at the end read: Pont d'Issy. The tip of a long island ran under part of the bridge. The river stretched out on either side, indistinct and obscured by the heavy snowfall.

Ginny stood at the rail and stared into the frigid water, revelling in the blissful blankness of her mind and the fact that she felt nothing but the icy cold wind blowing through her jumper. After a while, she heard boots crunching in the snow to her right. As the footsteps drew nearer, she snuck a peek out of the corner of her eye and immediately did a double take.

"Draco?"

He said nothing, but for a moment, Ginny could have sworn she saw relief in his eyes. He set two steaming paper cups on the bridge. Hands now free, Draco removed his own scarf and tied it around her neck, then produced a cloak, which Ginny hadn't seen, that had been draped over one arm. He slung it dramatically around her shoulders and secured it at her shoulder. Then he handed her one of the cups.

"Here, drink this."

Ginny gaped. Then she shivered, not realising how cold she was until the hot container touched her flesh.

"How did you—?"

"Eighty-three percent of people head west when fleeing, and I know that being near water calms you down. This bridge is almost a straight shot from the warehouse. It was the logical conclusion."

Ginny stared some more, not quite believing that Draco had found her. Or that he'd come looking for her at all.

Draco's expression became stern. "Freezing yourself to death will not bring them back. Now drink."

Reality came crashing back, crushing her spirit like a bug beneath a tonne of bricks. Unable to meet his gaze, Ginny spun back to the water, but obediently took a sip. Creamy hot chocolate met her tongue, lightly flavoured with peppermint – her favourite. Her stomach warmed instantly, and a nice fuzzy feeling slowly spread throughout her body as she drank. Draco stood at her side, their elbows occasionally brushing, also watching the river flow.

Ginny was nearly finished with her chocolate before Draco spoke again, his voice soft and far away.

"The first time I—it was hot and so balmy you could feel the moisture in your lungs. It was only a couple of weeks after that night... when Dumbledore died, and I hadn't gotten out of England yet. I don't even know where I was, just that I was miserable and terrified and alone. Then they found me – a couple of Greyback's lackeys. Apparently the Dark Lord had had them scouring the countryside looking for me.

"Anyway, I was squatting in this abandoned cabin when they ambushed me in the middle of the night. I didn't even really know what was going on, only that there were two men in my room and they were trying to kill me or bring be back – I didn't know which would be worse. Next thing I know my wand is in my hand, and the room is filled with wandsmoke and spellfire. I was very unskilled, but the close quarters worked to my advantage.

"I killed the first one. He was older and slower and I was running on reflexes alone. I don't remember what spell I cast, but I do remember the look of utter shock on his face as he fell to the ground. Then I disarmed the second. He was angry and reckless after the death of his companion, and it was easy."

Draco took a deep bracing breath and turned to face Ginny. She did not even try to hide the fact that she had been listening raptly to Draco's story, heart pounding in her chest. Draco never shared; he never talked about his past, especially that time after the end of his sixth year.

Draco waited until Ginny met his eyes before continuing. "I disarmed him, and then I killed him anyway."

Ginny fought hard to keep her expression neutral, though she knew he probably saw exactly what she was thinking anyway.

"I could have Stunned him, but he would have been hot on my trail in less than an hour," Draco continued. "I could have Petrified him, but someone eventually would have come looking for him, and then he would have been able to tell what happened and which direction I'd gone. Instead I buried the bodies and ran south like the hounds of hell were on my heels. Three days later, I was in Calais."

Ginny saw where he was going with this. The similarities between what happened to him two summers ago and what happened to Ginny that afternoon were striking.

"You didn't have any other choice," Ginny said, her voice breaking. She didn't know, however, whether she was trying to convince Draco or herself.

"Neither did you," Draco whispered. Gently he placed his hand on her chest, over her heart. "And I know it feels like you're being ripped apart inside, but you have to believe that."

Ginny turned her face away and squeezed her eyes shut. Two hot tears ran down her cheeks, which she angrily brushed away. She had managed to not cry all this time; why should she start now? Yet the tears were becoming increasingly difficult to hold back, especially with Draco standing there looking at her like that, like he'd do anything to make it stop hurting.

Ginny wrapped Draco's hand in both of hers, and held on tight. "I keep seeing his face," she said at last. "And Yvette's – she didn't deserve to die. I asked her to come—"

"Ginny," Draco said.

She shivered, and it wasn't from the cold. Draco often called her by her given name, but she never really got used to the way it sounded tumbling from his perfect lips.

"Nothing that happened today was your fault," he continued. Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but a finger held across her lips silenced her immediately. "You rescued seven captives, one of them single-handedly, and survived a duel against two skilled Death Eaters. Yes, there were deaths, but there were also people you could have harmed, but didn't, and I think that says more about you than almost anything else.

"I will not blame you for making a battlefield decision and defending yourself anymore than you blame me for my faults."

In an instant, Ginny's mind was back in that freezing brook behind the Les Dragons headquarters, only this time the roles were reversed.

"But Yvette—"

"While lamentable, was not your fault either. She was an adult that made a choice."

"But-"

Draco grabbed her and kissed her then, crashing his lips onto hers with such force and passion her knees went all wobbly. He caught her, wrapping his arm about her waist and pulling her even closer, so close she thought she could feel his heart pounding in his chest. There was only a single stunned moment, however, before she was kissing him back.

Ginny turned her head slightly, and parted her lips, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. He tasted like chocolate and raspberries, and she could have sworn his hand was trembling as be brought it to her face to caress her cheek. All ten of Ginny's fingers found their way into Draco's hair, which was slightly damp from the snow, but still as soft as silk.

She did not even bother to swallow the groan of disappointment as Draco broke the kiss and rested his forehead on hers. His eyes were closed, and his tongue darted out across his bottom lip, as though trying to taste anything that remained of her. Ginny tried to focus on catching her breath instead.

"Will you for once in your life not argue with me?" Draco finally said, his voice unsteady.

Ginny laughed softly, suddenly feeling much, much lighter. "Are you kidding? If that's how you plan on shutting me up, I think I'll be arguing with you about everything."

Draco gifted her with a rare, true smile, and kissed her again. Ginny allowed him to plunder her mouth and hold her so hard it hurt because for the moment, they were the only two people in the whole world.

* * *

**Also, _mylaya _is a Russain word that roughly translates to 'sweetheart'. Thanks to pitzi at F&I for the correction.**


End file.
